United
by Nutella-in-a-bowl
Summary: Based two years after 'New to the Creed' and 'Child of None': Bad- tempered teenager Sarah, Dessy's younger English cousin, is sent away from the 'safety' of Desmond's bar, and placed in the hands of her new Mentor, the time-travelling Assassin, Lex. His achievement:to get Sarah to have her 'Baptism of Fire'.
1. Away

**A/N This is a joined fanfic, written by me, and thompsongunner91. I'm writing all of Sarah's chapters, and he's writing all of Lex's, though this may change throughout the story . We hope you enjoy this story. It took a load of planning.**

**With my character, Sarah, and with Lex, thompsongunner's main fanfic character.**

**Review, please ^^ **

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><p><strong>Sarah<strong>

"Hey Des?" I asked.  
>"Hmm?"<br>"What can I do?"  
>"Nothing. "<br>"Hey, no fair- I'm freakin' bored."  
>Desmond just gave me a look,<br>"My bar. My rules. I'm the bartender- you're my thirteen year old English cousin. Go occupy yourself, isn't that what the British do?" he cleaned a glass, before filling it, and five others, with a strange blue liquid- Vodka , then handing it to an alcohol-thirsty group of men.  
>"Dammit, Desmond you racist." But I was only joking. Half.<br>Two years since I came out of the Animus. One year since we saved the world. But, we had a few missions, so we've only been at the bar for no more than six months.  
>After finishing all memory sequences of Altair and Ezio, and saving the world, Shaun and Rebecca had other duties elsewhere, and Desmond took me with him at the bar he used to work at ages ago. Assassins. Working in a Bar. Actually, just Desmond works. I sit around, bored, mostly. But Desmond and I aren't the only Assassins in the Bar…<br>A Catholic parish priest, a tattoo artist, two bodyguards for hire, and a Rastafarian street preacher, all Assassins obeying the creed.  
>I haven't even learned their names yet. I sighed, bored. Nothing exciting had happened for six months, apart from a few drunks on a drunk rampage, but that's not really interesting. Especially if it happens every weekend.<br>"I need to get some air," I told Desmond- too much alcohol scent was giving me a headache.  
>I gulped in the fresh air- I remember what it felt like to run. But I almost forgot how great it felt.<br>But I can never do the cool stuff. I'm 'just a kid'. Uh, no, I'm a teenager.  
>I heard raised voices. I sighed- drunks. But it wasn't drunks, oh no. It was my Uncle Bill arguing with Desmond. What was he doing here?<br>Carefully, I ran back through to the bar. Father and Son were literally shouting at each other,  
>"She needs training! Because you're keeping her in this bar, she can't get any exercise."<br>"Dad, she's fine here, and you can't just take her like a play toy. She's a teenager, she can care for herself!"  
>"She hasn't been given any rank. She is a Novice, technically. She hasn't spent time training at that Order outside New York, so, despite her talent, she is a Novice. I'm sending her there."<br>"Uncle Bill? What are you talking about?" I demanded, scowling in the doorway,  
>"Sarah, I'm sending you to the Brotherhood Order near New York."<br>"What?" I gasped, "No way, Uncle, I'm not leaving Des."  
>"You have to. Ever since your…Mom and Dad died, I'm responsible for you."<br>I sighed,  
>"Do I have to?"<br>"Yeah. You do."

"When?"

"You're going now. I knew this would be difficult. So I've had an Assassin to pack your stuff." A man wearing a baggy, grey-with-dirt white hoodie and slightly grubby black jeans walked through the door, with a backpack, _my backpack_, looking at all of us.  
>"Des?" I said. He looked at me,<p>

"Yeah?"

"I'll miss you." I flung my arms round him,  
>"I'll miss you too, kid." He hugged me back. He let go. Uncle Bill indicated for me to follow him and the Assassin. I sighed, sparing one more look at Desmond.<br>"This is Yanko," said Uncle Bill, gesturing to the Assassin, "He will take you. For safety."  
>"Fine," I sighed, climbing into the car that stood before me. This is gonna be a long ride, I thought, slouching in the seat, crossing my arms.<p>

XxX

The man looked back at her in the rear view as they took off. His cap was wedged down low, but couldn't mask completely the curls that were beneath it. If the girl had taken the time to notice as many other gadje had commented, he looked a bit like Johnny Depp. Ironic, since his name was a variant of John.

"Don't look so sour, renka. You'll be out of my cab and I'll be disinfecting myself soon." The long drive was mostly in silence, broken only by the Romani man flipping channels when they would cut out to white nose. They passed through the city and its traffic and into the countryside. Much greener, as long as the passenger didn't look out the Jersey side of the car.

Another hour and a half and they were pulling through a long road that led to even longer roads. Yanko turned down one of these insane driveways and stopped once they'd crested the top of a small hill. Before them sat a veritable fortress of a mansion house. Large wooden doors with wrought iron handles were the entrance, these placed inside battlement-style walls. A tower of sorts poked from one corner of the building. The only things that were modern about the place were the sercurity cameras, and those even were hidden.

Yanko pulled up to the gateway, parked, got the girl, out, and left once more.

As if expecting her, the doors swung open for Sarah. Inside was a vast courtyard. At one end was another, smaller set of wooden doors. The walls were pitted as if older than they appeared, full of hand and footholds.

A boom box stood to one side, playing a Wiccan song with a heavy drumbeat. A boy was moving to the beat. A sword flashed in the sunlight, movement flowing from one blow to the next, as if the weapon was more staff than blade. He was small, standing at only five foot four. He wore only a T-shirt and jeans, bare feet padding against and sometimes leaving the ground. His skin was a dark farmer's tan, shaggy brown hair falling over brown eyes only to be flicked aside as the young man spun, kicked, slashed.

He stopped when the song ended, breathing softly as he looked at the girl. He couldn't have been older than eighteen, although the lines marring his features said otherwise. Sheathing the sword, he made a beckoning motion to Sarah, palm downward, fingers curling toward him. When the girl had entered the courtyard, he said, "Dessy sent you?" Without waiting for a reply, he turned on his blackened heel and moved toward the doors. "Lunch is this way."


	2. Novice

Lex lead her beyond the large entrance area, stopping only to ask her to take off her shoes before she came in, not bothering with the large staircase that branched out to everywhichwhere and taking her to one of the side rooms, through the kitchen, where a small table was. Sitting cross-legged, he slid two packages over to her, each emblazoned with the Subway logo.

"One's veggie, the other's meatball." He took his own footlong meatball and began devouring it. "Didn't know which kind you liked. Dessy didn't say," he said once he'd gotten halfway through his sandwich. After polishing off the rest, he waited for Sarah to finish. He smiled a little and the lines on his face became more pleasant, the stern stare-lines at the edges of his eyes now laugh-lines, the bags below his eyes a little less visible. "Figured a little familiarity would be better before we go into the differences." The young man settled his arms on the small table between them.

"My name is Lex," he said. This time Arabic flowed from his tongue. "I'm the Sparrow." It changed to Italian. "I am also called the doctor of the Assassins and the Grandmaster of the Peasants." He fell back into English again. "You'll hear Arabic the most around the house, although we try and familiarize ourselves with as many languages as possible." He changed to Spanish. "Por exemplo, esta lengua"-and then partway through-"und Ich spreche ein bisschen Deutsch."

"Training is in the morning after eating and getting ready for the day however you normally would. Break for school-" He eyed her critically. "You do go to school, right? After school, a few lessons in traditional Assassin ways, various things you'll learn when joining the Peasants, the same as many have learned..." His large brown eyes fixed on Sarah's once more. "But I'm getting ahead of myself. Tell me what you already know, Novice, and we'll go from there."

**Sarah**

I finished my veggie Sub, knowing that I knew quite a lot already. I took a breath,

"Okay…so, um, I know the tenets of the Creed- a guy called Shaun Hastings taught me. Shaun also taught me how to hack." Lex's eyes remained on mine. It was kind of creeping me out. "And, I understood some of the languages you were speaking. Italian . I also speak Arabic, if that's any help. I've already had mild training with Desmond…if you count wrestling, and there have been cases where we had to kill Templars."I paused, remembering what else I've learned the past year. I smirked,

"Did Desmond tell you that I have higher skills than a Novice?"  
>"He mentioned it," replied Lex. He looked at me as if to say 'continue',<p>

"I've been to school, right up after the first term of year seven, secondary school, so I'm educated, not stupid." Lex raised a brow. "And, erm, I think that's it. Wait-" I remembered my Italian , " My name's Sarah, by the way." He smirked,

"That's more than I expected, but no matter, there's still much for you to learn, Sarah."

"What like?" I asked,

"You'll see." I sighed impatiently, almost like a growl. I didn't like to wait. That's my ancestor's, part of me. Impatient and sometimes stubborn.

"So…Training is in the morning after eating and getting ready for the day however I'd normally would. Then, a break for school…then afterwards…erm, a few lessons on the Assassin's ways…with things I'd need to know about the Peasants. "

"Yes, that's pretty much right," said Lex.

He lead me out of the room.


	3. Fighting

He led me to the courtyard, where some other Assassins were training. He handed me a sword, then took one himself,

"Swords?" I said, raising a brow, "Isn't this the 21st Century, Lex?"

"Yes, but it's vital to keep the skills of our ancestors, so we may use them in other forms of combat."

"You sound like a fortune teller," I mumbled.

He gave me a look,

"It's my job. Show me what you can do," he said, raising his sword, "but no bloodshed." That would be difficult, I thought, the swords are sharp. But I nodded anyway- raising my sword, despite its heaviness.

I clashed my sword on his.

He used strong blows. Heavy clashing. Skilled strokes. Mine seemed quite weak compared to his by far, but I stayed strong. I tried to figure out his weak side, aiming for the left of him, then the right- but he seemed strong all-round. He certainly figured out _my weak_ side-my left. I'm screwed, I thought. He used my height as an advantage for himself.

I was getting a little bit tired now-Lex seemed to be winning. There was one place I hadn't tried, I thought. The weak place of all men and boys. Then again, he probably knows that's the oldest trick in the book. My mind was racing for techniques that could help-my limbs were growing exhausted. _The chest. _I tried the chest. He wobbled. Fell. And pulled me down with him.

"How is that even fair?" I moaned. Lex smirked.

XxX

"You were going for a nut shot, or weren't you?" He watched her face look guilty for a moment. "Now, see, I'm not above doing that if I can't get someone off me, but that's in the heat of combat and there are many other ways to get someone off you besides a last ditch effort that can be so easily blocked or evaded if your opponent has two brain cells to rub together. And if we're going to talk about fairness in combat-" He rolled suddenly so that the girl was under him, knees hooked around her hips, one fist gripping her shirt, the other raised over her face. A small, silver ring on his right hand flashed in the sunlight. "-wait 'til we get to Tsun Tzu's Art of War."

Lex stood and circled the girl. "Grappling, wrestling, boxing, taekwondo, Muay Thai, capoeira, swordplay, knife fighting, knife throwing, horsemanship, standard and mounted archery, using guns, strategy, and dance. Those are just a few things you will learn with regards to combat." He saw the girl snicker at that last one. "Yes, I said dance. One of those fighting styles I just named was developed and hidden as mere dancing to keep it from men who would stop its being learned." The Sparrow watched Sarah fall silent. "Now, I don't know about your opinion, but Desmond's training to me is like sleeping in a haystack and coming out every once in a while to take a shit, so I'm gonna give you a little demonstration in fighting, if you don't mind." Pulling a cell phone from his pocket, he hit a few buttons on the screen and pressed it to his ear. "Latcho dives, pal. No, no, before you say no... Yes, I know this. Yes, I know this, too. Okay, okay, if that happens, I'll pay you twice. Yes, this time I'll pay, too." He pressed a hand to his heart. "I swear, pal." He lifted the phone to his hair, where a small band of coins was braided into his hair, and jangled the charms there before putting the phone back to his ear. "Hear that? Yes, I swear on his memory, too. Fine." He raised his hand and slapped it hard against his chest. "I swear on the bones of the leader of the kumpania I once traveled with, my brother and friend who gave me these charms-may his spirit cut out my tongue if I lie-that I will recompense you for your troubles. Are you coming now?" He sighed. "I love you too. Thank you. Yes, a thousand thanks. Thanks enough to last to 1511. Thank you. Thank you. All right, thank you! Just come over!" He gave the sky an exasperated look. "Christ, he'll never let me forget this. Ever."

A few minutes later the sound of a car breaking and a door slamming were heard on the other side of the door. Yanko strolled in, but didn't look very happy to be there.

"I love you, renki chavo," he said as took off his cap and pulled his shirt over his head.

"We just had this conversation," Lex replied, stripping off his own shirt. His skin was littered with scars. The Romani man gave his chest a studious stare.

"You're recovered from that blow you took, I trust, or else you wouldn't be asking me to do this?"

"It was months ago. My ribs are strong as ever."

"That boot print tells a different story, little brother, and I'm not having anyone coming after me for this." Lex groaned and leaned his head back, hands pressed to his face.

"Bismillah, man, let's just get this done! You can worry about my run in with that car and how lousy Templar drivers are later!" He went over to the stereo and pressed play. On came The Battle of Stirling from the Braveheart soundtrack. Lex moved into position, taking his usual stance, relaxed, almost leaned back on the air, hands at his sides, almost like he was going to be speaking with someone. Yanko put up his fists in front of himself and moved forward. He threw a quick right hook at Lex's head. The boy ducked and swung at his knee with his heel. Yanko jumped over his sweep and brought his elbow down toward the boy's head.

Lex twisted out of the way and grabbed his arm, attempting to throw him over his shoulder. Yanko curled as he was flipped, bringing the boy down on top of him. Lex elbowed his stomach hard just below his ribs, the air leaving the cabby's lungs in a whoosh. The Sparrow rolled down the man's body and onto his feet again. Yanko caught his foot as it came toward his face, twisting it hard, forcing Lex to hop over him and allowing him time to find his feet again.

Lex hopped a little as the song switched over to one from Gladiator. He twirled on the spot, grinning.

"Damn, I love this song."

"It's Now We Are Free, isn't it?"

"Uh-huh."

"What language is she speaking?"

"Gibberish of Irish Gaelic and Hebrew."

"I'll never understand you."

As they spoke, the two had continued fighting, sweat starting to show on their skin as Yanko got tired of Lex evading his punches toward his head. The boy gagged as a hard-knuckled fist met his stomach, bending himself almost double backwards to avoid getting a kick across the face, and grabbed onto the taller man's leg to steady himself. He threw himself forward, tackling him to the ground.

Yanko threw his weight to one side, bringing Lex down under him and his legs around his waist, ready to put his fist into his face. Lex drew his arm up and slammed his elbow into the muscle of Yanko's inner thigh. The man let out a startled yell, gripping at it as Lex reversed their positions and pinned the Romani man's arms over his head so the trick couldn't be used on himself. He'd forgotten about his opponent's legs, though, and found himself clinging onto him when he had the brilliant notion to just stand up.

Arms slipped around the smaller man's lower back, tightening into a bear hug. Pulling his head back, Lex slammed his forehead into the other's mouth, who dropped him in favor of clutching his mouth and checking if all his teeth were intact. He swore behind his hand and felt one of his teeth, which was now loose.

"Ow." The man glared at him and stated again, "Ow."

"We both lost on that one." Lex rubbed the spot on his brow.

"No one ever wins with a headbutt."

"Except Ezio."

Yanko rolled his eyes at this and checked the medic's head, pushing his hair back. "You'll live, unless that popped zit is going to make you bleed out." He made a face. "Yuck, now I have to brush my teeth. I have zit juice in my mouth probably."

"Shut up," Lex muttered, pushing him lightly. The man went over to where the stereo sat and turned off the music, which had changed once again to Pendulum's The Tempest. He tossed Lex one of the towels that sat in a neat pile beside the boom box and dried himself off. Yanko looked at his watch and sighed, "Second shift's got to start soon. Have fun with your girlfriend, kid." He ruffled the other's hair into a fluffy mess. Lex lifted his ring finger in what he thought of as the Assassin version of the bird, although he'd never told anyone this. It probably would have earned him a few snorts and shoves to his head. Yanko eyed the ring with a knowing "Oh" and smiled as he left them alone, picking up his shirt as he went.

Turning to the girl once more, shirt pulled back on and hair slightly less rumpled, Lex smiled and said, "All right, feel free to comment as we go." He led her back into the house and up the stairs, giving her a quick, impromptu tour. There wasn't much to the house, really. The training rooms were downstairs in what was a downplayed as the basement, most of the rooms were for guests or storage, a few were left for medical purposes, and a number for studying—there were bookshelves in practically every room of the house that was designated as able to be occupied by someone—including an expansive library in the very center of all the rooms that could be entered from a door in each of the four sides of the room.

"Weapon rooms are downstairs to the right, if you're coming down from your room, which is here," he tapped the door, which was five down from the top right corner of the stairs.

"Kitchen's on the left, dining room's through it, like you saw earlier. Living room's in the door off the side of that if you do get bored and want to watch anything on the plasma or play video games or something." He led her through the library and to the door opposite the one they'd just exited. "This is where you can find me if I'm asleep." He went down the hall a ways to where the banister that lined the landing of the staircase and tapped the door there. "If you happen to see someone enter here and you love life, don't try to sneak in, don't try to follow, and for the love of God, don't knock." He sighed. "Other than that, have some fun. Explore, but don't get yourself killed, and I'll be napping if you need me." With that, Lex left to his indicated room to take a shower.


	4. Thoughts

**Lex**

Lex sighed as he stepped out of the shower and cleared off a space in the condensation on the mirror with his hand. Yep, he was still the same. Same lines worn into his face, same scar cutting through his right eyebrow. Except he looked paler now. The Sparrow made a mental note to get out into the sun again in the summer, or at least more during the daytime.

Toweling himself off, he crawled into the bed and made a little ball beneath the covers. He shut his eyes, but the sleep he craved wouldn't come. Dreams plagued his mind. Yes, he had the dreams now, too, and it was the same one set on repeat this time. Every time he thought he would drift off, it waited for him behind his eyelids. Reaching out and under the pillow on the other side of the bed, he pulled out a large plush toy, almost as big as the pillow itself, and hugged it against his chest. It was a barn owl, and the only thing that gave it away as not being alive was the completely red color of the feathers on its heart-shaped face and body, as if a great fountain of blood had been allowed to dye the toy that shade.

Lex was busily hugging the owl to death when a hand settled on his head, dark fingers stroking through his hair. The younger man relaxed almost instantly, releasing the owl and gripping onto the hand's owner. No words were exchanged as the medic buried his face into the taller man's chest, head brushing against the ring that hung around his neck, and slept. None were needed.

When Lex awoke, the door was locked and a pair of eyes stared back into his, their brows pressed together.

"You have another Novice." He nodded, though it wasn't a question. "Train her well, habibi."

"I've stolen every single Novice from you in this era. Don't I always?" He winced as he received a nice flick on the side of his head, but didn't take it too seriously. While the other's face was mockingly stern, his gaze was snow-fall soft, eyes almost smiling.

**Sarah**

TV.

Typical, I know, but hey, TV wouldn't get me killed. I entered the room Lex said the TV was. After gawping at the size, I sat down on the black leather sofa, flicking through the hundreds of channels unconsciously.  
>I was too busy thinking.<br>My mentor, Lex, was a strange man. Not in a bad way, or a weird way, but… there was something about him. He looks about eighteen, but his face says he's older…if that's how I put. Earlier, I had looked at him with my Eagle Vision (which I had inherited from the Bleeding Effect). Lex was not violet, like Desmond, or red, nor blue, neither gold. It was…some kind of bright grey colour, or a yellowish grey. Yanko was similar, but he was closer to blue than grey. I also tried to read Lex's emotion- I immediately realized he keeps things bottled up- but that's all I saw. In his eyes, I saw some kind of barrier… like when it was broken, I would be able to find out what he felt, and also I can't be certain. But for now, I couldn't figure out whether he was nervous, or unhappy, or bored, or anything.  
>I thought about Desmond. I missed him, a lot. He used to call me Sparky, because of my eyes-so did Shaun and Rebecca.<br>Then I thought about how much I missed Shaun. He understood me, but that was possibly because we were both English. He moved back to England, with Rebecca.  
>As for Lucy…I wish that…that 'woman', Juno, hadn't made Des kill her.<br>Thinking about the gang then made me think about Abtergo, the Templars responsible for the reason why I can't remember my life before the age of nine. And that damned Animus- sticking inside it for two years was not a god plan.  
>Thoughts linked to other thoughts. Altair Ibn'La-Ahad. It had been almost two years since I last 'visited' him. I saw a memory of Maria Thorpe, but that was the last one I ever saw, and also Maria's gruesome death. Rebecca forbade me to go in the Animus after seeing what happened:<br>"No, Sparky," she had said, "That was too violent."  
>"Hey com'on, Rebecca- please?" I had moaned. But no.<br>I paid attention to now. I looked at my watch- I had been dormant for over half an hour, lost in my thoughts,  
>"Woah," I muttered to myself, "I've got to stop doing that." I failed, remembering that fight earlier, thinking how unfair it was. Maybe I should ask for a re-match? Then again, I wasn't sure what he'd do if I did. Would he strangle me? Or shoo me off? So, to keep myself alive, I watched TV, actually paying attention to the big plasma. I'd see Lex when he was ready, I decided.<p> 


	5. Fairness

**Sarah**

As I sat, watching the TV, I began to feel a bit annoyed. I mean, how long does it take to have a nap? Most people have naps about ten minutes to half an hour. Then again, Lex is different from 'most people.' I folded my arms, straitening myself on the sofa.

I sighed to myself, partly with boredom and partly with annoyance. I don't usually spend _this_ long watching TV; I'm usually wrestling with Desmond, or sat down talking. But Desmond isn't here, and at the moment, there's no-one to talk to.

No-one, until a man walked into the room. He was tall, with dark eyes, and stubbly brown buzz cut hair. He didn't seem friendly. I shot him a glance.

"You're the new Novice?" His voice was rough, like his vocal chords had been hacked at with machetes. But it didn't sound like an ordinary bad throat- it sounded normal …_for him._  
>I secretly hated being called a Novice. Despite this, I nodded.<p>

"And your mentor's Lex?"

Why so serious, I thought smugly- I saw that he was moody at that precise moment. I nodded again.

The man scoffed,

"_That_ Sparrow. He teaches rubbish."

I finally spoke up, making my voice clear,

"You seem to have something against Lex," I pointed.

"He has something against everyone," came a voice. Lex had walked into the room silently. He regarded the man, "David."

"Lex."

The man called David took this as a leave to go. He left without hesitation, as if he was glad to go.

"What's with _him?_"

"Something you wouldn't understand. It's best to stay away from him-as you saw, he's not the most social man on earth."  
>"Yeah, I saw that."<p>

He looked at me carefully,

"You look bored out of your skull," he pointed. Captain obvious.  
>"That's because I <em>am<em> bored out of my skull," I grumbled.  
>"You didn't just have to stay in here. You could've gone to look around at the places I showed you."<p>

"I couldn't risk myself getting killed, like you said."

Lex said nothing to this. Instead, he said,  
>"I was under the impression you wanted a re-match?"<p>

"What- Yeah, course I do." I was surprised…and sort of bewildered. How did he know? Was I easy for him to read? I guess so.

"Then follow me." He lead me out of the lounge.

**Lex**

Lex kneaded his jeans between his fingers as he walked. He was angry; he knew it only too well. I shouldn't be training my Novice now, he thought to himself, but she wants a rematch. Maybe I can work off my anger and not take it out on her. Unless she tries anything stupid.

No, he wasn't in the friendliest of moods. Taking the steps down into the basement, he walked a clean, white hall, bright with lights. He turned into a room on his left. A matt lay on the floor, stretching almost the whole length of the room. Around the perimeter of the room were racks of various weapons: pole arms, swords, axes, staves. All the bladed weapons gleamed with a fine, sharp edge. Stripping off his shoes at the inside of the room, Lex set them on an empty rack and dipped his fingers into a small bucket hung on the wall. His fingers came away powdered; he patted the chalk onto his feet and palms. Stepping over to the black stereo that sat against the far wall beside the collection of pole arms, he turned on a song on repeat and stepped onto the matt.

"C'mon." The flute played softly in the background in place of what he assumed would have been crickets. When the Novice took some time in chalking her feet, he barked, "Yallah!" That got her jumping to the matt.

"Over hills and over meadows see the crow fly, fear her shadow..." came the song.

"Morrigan, ancient crone of war, come set my spirit free," Lex hummed as the sounds of a recorded battle came to the background, the flute overlaying the screams of the wounded. He moved forward, aiming to put the girl into a headlock. His eyes widened as he saw her knee coming up toward his lower belly. No, not his belly. Gritting his teeth at the move, his anger snapped to the fore as a crow let loose its cry on the recording. He slammed his foot up between Sarah's legs and was unsurprised to hear her shriek.

"Kill for Morrigan! Maim for Morrigan! Fight for Morrigan!"

"Yeah, it hurts, doesn't it?" snapped the small Master. He circled his injured student. "Little anatomy lesson for ya: men have two thousand nerve endings down there. Women have four thousand. Do the math on how much pain that'll be for you for the next few hours!"

"Kill! Maim! Fight! Slay! Die!"

He stood still for a moment, trying to drag his mind back to the present. He was back on the Field of Flodden, in the crush of many bodies. One of his students was fighting by his side, a strong, mad Scotsman he was proud to have call him brother and mentor and, often enough, wee bird. He was a sweet man by nature, happy to hear his mentor call him Braveheart or Stevie Wonder, even if the latter he didn't understand the reference, and Lex knew he didn't, but he loved it all the same. He looked anything but sweet at that moment, a vicious grin spread on his blood-spattered face, Hidden Blade slicing through gullets and claymore severing heads from necks. Lex could have sworn he heard him singing something like that song under his breath.

Then it hit him like a kick in the chest-no, what hit him was an actual kick in the chest, his body insisted, but his mind was too far away to register that. That man, that loveable schitzophrenic he found impossible to be angry with for too long, even if he did something egregiously silly, was dead. His heart clenched in his chest, breath cut short.

"An caraid." A hand was on his chest. The pain lessened. "Open yer eyes." Lex obeyed and in the same instant swore he'd finally lost his mind. That final crucial marble had rolled into a hole in the floorboards somewhere. The man himself crouched above him, hand on his chest gently, his long, dark brown braid falling over his shoulder. And he felt the hand on his chest. "An caraid, I'll always have a place here." The fingers drummed over his heart as his breathing normalized. "And if you need a sword to fight by your side, me is the first to volunteer. And if you ever need a bright head, you can rely on us." He pointed to the pack that was half-slung over his shoulder. "But you know this already, don't you, dottore?" And then he was on his feet, evading a blow that had been coming down toward his head. The exchange, however much of one it had been, however real it had been, had only taken enough seconds for Sarah to recover herself and aim a punch toward his face after sprawling him onto his back with her kick.

Lex made a mental note to call one of the other Assassins after this match was through. The plan he had in mind was utterly ludicrous. God help me, I just might need a shrink! He was laughing aloud. He felt, too, that two spectral someones were laughing with him.

* * *

><p><strong>AN- The song used is Morrigan by Omnia. It belongs to them. Also, an caraid = my friend  
><strong>


	6. Running

He wanted the match done and done it would be soon enough. Taking a firm stance, he grabbed Sarah's head and put it into a lock beneath his arm, keeping one hand at her belt to stop her squirming.

"I can snap your neck like this. Don't move." The Master Assassin looked at the back of her head and slowly released her. "I have to run a few errands. Feel free to trail me, or not. Feel free to stay around here." He turned to exit the room and, for an instant, a tinge of his one-time mentor Malik's nature crept into his voice. "Do whatever you want to do, but do so quietly."

Mad, mad, I'm going mad, he thought, not paying any heed to what his Novice did for the moment. Lex was in his room in a minute flat, stripping out of his sweaty clothes. He stopped at his jeans, frowning for a moment before throwing open his sliding closet door and donning a pair of burgundy red Assassin robes. A band of cloth wrapped around his head. He slipped two bracers onto his hands, then pulled up the hood. Pocketing his iPod, he turned on a song and ran out the door.

The Sparrow set himself a pace, breathing hard as he reached the bridge that led into the city proper. But he didn't stop. Scaling the nearest building, he ran over the rooftops. No one noticed him, or if they did their calls were quickly answered with a wave. Lex started into the more difficult tricks, letting his wings spread after so little use. He flipped backward over the alleyways and gaps between buildings, doing a few tricks that earned him at least an "All right, shorty!" from someone. Reaching the city proper, the jumps became more difficult as the buildings' heights increased. Dropping down finally, he pressed through the crowds and into the tattoo shop. Brian looked up at him, then did a double take, gawping at the end like a landed fish seeing itself gutted.

Lex looked over at the skull that sat on his worktable with a leash tied around it. He went over and hugged it tight to his chest. Brian was still looking for his voice when the Peasant leader hooked his arms around his waist and dashed off again in a blur of red. Scaling the next building, the blade extended from his bracer to help him-a hookblade kept in meticulous care. Grasping the top of the roof, he could've sworn someone grabbed his robes and pulled him the rest of the way. Lifting his eyes, he came face to face with an Ottoman Turk's playful grin that disappeared into the edges of his black beard. The Sparrow's breathing quickened, a lump rising into his throat. The last time he had seen this face...

"La, Yusuf, la... Not you too." He gripped at his head, squeezing his eyes shut. Tears leaked from them.

"Evet," said the ghost, or vivid as hell hallucination, tilting up his chin with a finger. "When an Assassin tires of running, he must take to the air. Fly with us." A second hand joined Yusuf's in lifting him up. He began running again, his lungs burning from the emotions choking him. Letting out a wild scream, he threw himself across the next chasm, seeing more of Constantinople and Rome than New York. The screaming became sobbing laughter as he finally reached the harbor. Picking up as much speed as possible, booted feet pounding beside his own, Lex flung himself out into the air. For a moment, he thought he wouldn't make it. The jump was too short, the concrete coming at him so fast.

Then water closed over his head, barnacles scraping at his arm. He'd missed the street, but not the dock entirely. For an instant, he felt he was in the river Tiber. Swimming upward, he saw that he was still in city of the modern era, in the city he had run to to escape from something that needed to be faced rather than fled. He lifted his eyes toward the two men looking at him and smiled.

"Give everyone my love. Every single one."

* * *

><p><strong>Language notes: La = no in Arabic <strong>

**Evet = yes in Turkish**

* * *

><p><strong>Sarah<strong>

I stood on the mat, thinking about what Lex had said:

'Feel free to trail me…or not' Lex had said. I smiled, not throwing away that option.  
>Although Lex had left the room only minutes ago, he'd be way in front, knowing him. But I could catch up. Jogging, I exited. My Jogging turned into running, and my running soon turned into sprinting. I was past the Leap of Faith tower, and past the gates. The wind ruffled my ponytail as I ran- I had missed that feeling. My eyes watered at the wind pressed against my face- but I simply blinked away tears that had no right to be there.<br>I saw a distant shadow- Lex.  
>I reached the bridge that lead to the city. By now I was panting. I stopped for a few moments, placing my hands on my head to let oxygen reach my lungs. Then, I was off again.<p>

* * *

><p>I was eventually running across the rooftops in the city. I could see that shadow ahead of me. It was as if it was flying over the buildings. I closed my eyes and whimpered slightly as I leaped over the gaps between the buildings. Despite being an Assassin, I wasn't too comfortable with heights.<br>I occasionally looked down- people were staring up. I ignored them.  
>After a while, I stopped. I had followed Lex to the city proper, and the buildings were higher, and the gaps were longer. I can't, I thought, shaking my head.<br>_You can, Sparky_, I heard Desmond's voice in my head say. I knew it was just my imagination, but I listened to the voice. I took several paces backwards, ran, and jumped. I landed on the roof of the next building clumsily, falling over. But I pulled myself up, overwhelmed that I made it. The shadow faded from my sight. I quickly caught my breath, and started running at full speed. Sighing with relief, I saw Lex.  
>Once again, I stopped. Lex was hanging on the edge of the next building. I squinted my eyes- he was using a hook blade to hang on. If the blade gave way, he'd fall to his death. I panicked… my breathing accelerated as I stood there.<br>Suddenly, Lex pulled himself up onto the surface of the roof, but I didn't start running for a few moments. When he did, I relaxed, leaping onto that same rooftop.

* * *

><p>I followed Lex's shadow to the harbour. It wasn't hard to keep up with him- he was screaming as he ran. I froze as he jumped into the river. He didn't rise up to the water for some time. I tensed… eagerly raking my eyes through the water. He finally emerged,<p>

"Give everyone my love," he said to no-one, "Every single one."


	7. Answers

**Sarah**

Lex hauled himself out of the river. He spotted me,

"I thought you'd follow me," he said. He began running again before I could reply.

I tried to catch up with him,  
>"You looked as though you were talking to someone," I'd managed to say, "When you rose from the water."<br>"You caught that?" he replied.

"You did sort of scream the words." Lex sighed,  
>"I'll explain things when we get back."<p>

At last, we reached the main gates.

I caught my breath,

"Who were you… talking to?" I asked. I didn't think he'd reply, but he did,

"Stephen Schifferson of Firth- an old student of mine," he paused for a second, as if in deep thought," The other is The other is Yusuf Tazim da Istanbul."

I looked at him carefully-I felt that he had more to say.

"How come I didn't see them?" I asked, a little thickly.

"I…don't know. Sometimes I question my own sanity."  
>I had nothing to say to this… no, I didn't know what to say. Sighing, I entered the main building,<p>

"I'll go have a lie down," I told him. I walked up some stairs, towards the door Lex said was my room, and opened it. It was a plain and simple room- pale grey walls, a small bed in the corner, a chest of draws, and sink and mirror. My bag was sitting on my bed.

I un-zipped the bag to un-pack my things. My hoodies, underclothes and socks, t-shirts, one pair of trainers, pyjamas, and toiletries.

But there was one thing that didn't belong to me. Someone had packed one of Desmond's shirts. I picked up the black shirt, eying it curiously,

"No-one would think that's mine," I muttered to myself, "Why is it in there?"

I took deep breaths through my nose. The shirt still had Desmond's scent.

Sighing, I sat on the bed. I didn't know I would miss Desmond this much. I mean, yes he could be a bit…stupid, or moody at some times, but that's what he's like.

I thought about what Lex had said about questioning his own sanity. But I knew Lex wasn't mad. He was possibly a LITTLE deranged, maybe, but not mad.

"What am I thinking?" I said aloud, "I'm the freakish one. My eyes might as well be light bulbs."  
>I lied down, my eyes staring up. So many questions bubbled in my head- it was giving me a slight headache. I tried closing my eyes. I took deep breaths. Nothing I tried took the questions away. I guess they just need to be answered as soon as possible.<p>

They will be answered in time, Sparky, I heard Desmond's voice say.

Yep, I decided, I'm definitely the freakish one.

Desmond would never say something wise like that…would he?

XxX

Lex collapsed onto the rug in front of the TV after pulling two of the large, tie-dye colored, squishy pillows from the couch. He stared at the ceiling, looking for shapes in the cracks in the plaster. He shut his eyes and opened them again slowly.

The adhan reached his ears. Moats of dust were revealed with the sunlight slanting in through the fog outside and into the window above him. The smell of old books and candle wax flooded his nose. For a moment, he was back in Istanbul. He turned his eyes to his left. Yusuf was seated next to him, knees drawn up as a place to set his left arm, his right helping to bolster his propped position along with the untouched crate of books he leaned against.

The two Masters looked at each other in silence, the Call to Prayer the only sound to break it for a long while, the muezzin singing of devotion and duty and God. Lex wondered in the back of his mind if there was love spoken of in there somewhere that he couldn't quite catch at the moment. He wasn't paying heed to the summons of the faithful like he usually did, if only to sing Kyrie along with it and get a small smile from the man beside him, who found it pleasant during the early morning hours.

Finally, he spoke, "Can't I go back? Can't I change things? There has to be something I could've done, something I-" A finger was pressed gently to his lips, stilling his words, his pleas. The hand moved from his lips to his cheek.

"I kept my honor," murmured the elder man. "I protected my city, my home. You're a fine man, Skandar, a strong man, and I'm glad to see this. Don't sulk and ruminate over these things because of me or any of us. Don't weep for us either. The time for weeping is gone; the pain has passed. It's time to live again." The young man squirmed as his cheek was pinched. "Smile for me."

He smiled, if only to get the pinching fingers off his face. It worked and the smile grew, softened. "Your student is coming."

"Are you psychic now?"

"Evet." The man pressed two fingers to each of his temples and squinted his eyes, saying very seriously, "I foresee she will ever have the finesse of a herd of angry mules." The Sparrow laughed. Yusuf smiled at him. "Be at peace in your heart, serçe, and don't ever lose that smile."

Lex closed his eyes and opened them again, sitting up and looking at Sarah where she leaned against the threshold between the kitchen and the living room, crossing his legs and resting his arms on them. He raised a brow.

"Isn't that one of Dessy's hoodies?"

"Yeah," she answered, looking at him with her own raised eyebrows. "Don't you have a perfectly good couch to use?"

"Couches and sofas are two different things entirely and one is much more preferable to the other. As an old acquaintance once said, chairs limit how well Assassins are properly able to gesture as they should."

"Whatever you say, teach." She took a seat in front of him. "Look, I've got some questions."

"Fire away." He waited.

"There's no really proper way to say this."

"Just say it."

"What's up with you? Are you going mad? Will I got mad if you keep training me, or am I already?"

"No clue for those first two. Just seems like some loved ones wanted to visit. Might be I've finally lost it, or it might be ghosts really exist. I honest to God don't know. As for you going crazy, don't think it's too much likely. You'll probably end up with as many mental and physical scars as the rest of us have, maybe more, maybe less. It depends from person to person."

"Why do you think Des' shirt was in my bag?"

"He probably stuck it in there himself." Lex knew from experience Desmond rarely gave anything over without his own volition-a year of haystack observation maneuvers had taught him this.

"Do you think..." She broke off, shaking her head. The older man waited again. "Do you think he misses me?"

"If you miss him, you can always hitch a ride into town with me anytime, or come with me on missions. Or Tuesdays for open mic night." She gave him a dubious look. "That last part was Becca's idea."

"Why?"

"She thinks it's funny that Brian and I get half-wasted before going up on stage and sing our hearts out. Have you ever heard two drunks singing Lonely Island's 'On a Boat?' Me neither, but everybody tells me that they shit themselves laughing when we have a go at it."

Sarah gave him a smile-the first he'd really seen from her-but then sighed, "Do you think Abstergo knows where I am?"

"Pffff. If they do, they're going to have to hire a new interior decorator by the time we get done with 'em."

"But they attacked us before! Can't they do it again?"

"Where? How? With what?'

"With vans and AKs and crowbars!"

"What was that last one?"

"Crowbars." Lex leaned his face down into his palm and let out a long breath. He held out his free hand, the left, which had a scar scored across its palm.

"Lord, bless thee this thy hand grenade, that it may smite mine enemies, among them a Mr. Dr. Vidic, named for a Warren of rabbits, those things that cause death with big, sharp, pointy teeth, and blow them into tiny pieces, these Templars who have fallen from the ways of thy...ness...ness-ness." He snickered, which turned into a chuckle as he heard another measure of laughter joining his own. Lifting his head, he smiled at his newest Novice.

"Well," said the Master Assassin, "I, for one, am very hungry. Whadya say to lunch...dinner..." He snapped his fingers. "What's that British word Shaun said comes between lunch and dinner? Supper, there we go. Supper, let's have some of that. But first, lemme tell you what I've got planned for your next phase of training, seeing as you seem to have a lot of..." He ran his tongue over his lips as he tracked the word down. "Well, since you seem to require an additional hand than mine. No offense, just that I don't have the same resources as your soon-to-be second mentor."

He stood and moved into the kitchen, dragging out a pot and pan. Sarah followed him.

"Okay, so, who's going to be my second mentor?" she asked, frowning.

"He runs the horse stables downtown, breeds the horses and keeps them up. His family's done it from centuries, as well as being an entire tribe of Assassins." He grinned as he pulled a Ziplock bag from a drawer and a package of meat from the fridge.

"But who's he going to be?" the girl snapped, seeming exasperated by his slight evation. Lex grinned mischievously.

"Until he gives you his name himself, to you my brother is known as the Sheikh."


	8. Horse

Lex walked alongside Sarah as they made their way down the sidewalk toward the park where Badr had set up shop. Rather, where he had set up stables and house. The man stood in the center of one of the riding rings, a long lead rope held in his hand. The horse cantered around the ring, once or twice bucking out her hind legs. Lex hopped over the fence's top rail and dropped down. The mare slowed to a stop and snorted, ears pricking back before she recognized the stranger and whinnied in greeting.

"Ya-Bint-al-Hawa, loud as ever she is!" the Sparrow crowed with a grin in the Sheikh's native tongue. A smile lit up the man's face as he spread his arm in greeting, clasping the smaller man tightly to his chest as Lex ran over and hugged him. The man patted his cheek to find his face before leaning his head down and kissing his cheeks, actually missing them and getting his temples instead, but it mattered little to the other, who returned the gesture in kind. "How are you, brother?"

"My bloody arm's still gone and my eyes are still blind, Sparrow, if that's what you're meaning to ask after," the elder man snorted, ruffling the medic's hair, his voice still ringing clearly with his homeland's accent even after so long away. "No, I'm fine, Lex, I'm only joking."

"You? Joke? Who are you and what have you done with the Falcon?"

"Oh, ha, ha, yes, laugh awa-" He froze as the mare squealed and snapped at Sarah as she tried to climb over the fence. "Who's there?"

"Fajera, yallah! She's my new Novice." Whether he was telling this last part to the horse or the man was debatable, but hearing her nickname called by the boy, the furious mare made another circuit of the ring and wound her way toward Lex until she was finally nosing at his back and pockets. "La, silly one, I didn't forget you." Lex pulled an apple half from his pocket and let her eat.

"Why bring your new Novice here, habibi?" Badr asked as if the interruption had never happened, his arm winding its way around Lex's shoulders as he led the young Master and Ya-Bint-al-Hawa back toward the stables, his voice held low so only the two of them could hear.

"I've been..." Lex broke off for a moment, rubbing the back of his head as Badr set about stabling his favorite mare and guide. "The truth is, I've been out of sorts lately, and I feel that you would have more to show her at the moment than I can. She's in need of special training, the sort your horses are used to providing, I've heard."

"Ah. You've heard about this, have you?" The blind man's dark face turned toward him, a habit from when he could still see he had never gotten rid of, and likely never would, gesturing with the stump of his arm. Another habit from when he'd still had the limb. "Don't think I've gone soft."

"Please, you, O Sheikh of Sheikhs, soft? Never." Lex pulled a bow, laughing softly, their brows knocking together as he rose out of it. "Will you do this for me, brother of my blood?" Badr gave him one of his studious stares before pecking his brow.

"For you I'd put up with a thousand such Novices. Are you going to be leaving her here?"

"Yes. I hope you don't mind."

"No need to mind. Kadar's gone to stay with Shaun again."

"Again?" A nod. "How's Malik?"

Before Badr could answer, the two were interrupted by, "Malik? Kadar? Aren't they the Assassins Altair was with when he was in Solomon's Temple?" Badr looked at Sarah, reaching over and prodding her shoulder with a finger.

"Malik and Kadar are my sons, named for those brothers. At least I know now that you've taught her to eavesdrop well enough, brother."

"This she's learned before now. Desmond and his father have trained her a little, as has Shaun, I think."

"Desmond train someone? That Novice couldn't train his own way out of a paper sack, so I must have just been saddled with a Novice's Novice. She knows Arabic?"

"More than a little, but less than a lot. Italian as well."

"Plain English I'll say is a given. She's how old? Ten, eleven, twelve?"

"Thirteen or fourteen."

"Any horsemanship experience?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"Novice's Novice of a Novice," Badr muttered it like an oath. "Lex, be glad for my love of you. You'll come by tomorrow to check on her training?"

"Tomorrow or the next day. If not then, a few days' time." He smirked. "I might leave her here to squat for all you know."

"I know where you sleep, boy."

"Yes, right next to my husband." The two laughed at that and Badr pressed his fingertips to the Sparrow's cheek once more.

"A few days' time then. I'll try to give her back in one piece, but I'll make no promises for Fajera. Safety and peace be upon you, my dear friend."

"Upon you as well, my dearer friend." Lex grinned mischievously as he walked backward, slipping away from them and heading back toward home.

"You've given me a Novice of Desmond's line, brother!" Badr called back to him, lifting his hand in a wave as he looked toward where the crunch of sticks, stones, and leaves came from beneath Lex's boots. "Her presence here will deprive my sons and I of both!"

XxX

Lex walked away. I was confused. Husband? Was Lex..._gay_? Well if he's gay, he's gay. Shaking that thought out of my head, I looked at the man named Shiekh.  
>"Name?" he said.<p>

"Sarah."

"Sarah Miles?"  
>"No- Sarah Gratton."<br>"Ah, so a distant relative to Desmond."

"Yep."

His horse snapped at me.  
>"La, Fajera," said Shiekh.<br>I frowned at Fajera.  
>"So..." I started, "You'll be teaching me horse riding?"<br>"I'll tell you how. And you'll do it. Am I clear, Novice?"

"Yes."

"First, I'll take you to your horse."  
>Holding on a rope attached to Fajera, he lead me to the stables. Horses bobbed their heads in our direction.<br>He showed me to a pure Arabian. It had a silky black coat and mane, and white socks. He reminded me of Black Beauty,  
>"This," said Shiekh,"Is Halim. He is all right with Novices. He will be your horse."<p>

* * *

><p>Eventually (after getting my helmets, riding boots, saddle, reins -the list goes on) I was ready to start riding. Shiekh told me what to do,<br>"To make your horse move forward, squeeze with your calves. To make your horse halt, sit deep in the saddle and apply pressure with the reins. You can also say "whoa". To trot, squeeze tighter to start trotting. I'll tell you how to gallop when you are more confident at are some fields down the road- have a go. Come back when you're confident."  
>"What," I said, "Now?"<br>"Yes," confirmed Shiekh,"Now."  
>I managed to get Halim out of his stable. Holding on his reins, I lead him to the fields Shiekh was talking about.<p>

XxX

First things first, I thought, getting on the saddle.  
>I pulled myself up on the saddle. It was quite uncomfortable. Halim shifted a little which made it even more uncomfortable.<br>"I bet you're doing that deliberately," I murmured.  
>'<em>Squeeze with your calves'<em>.  
>I did. Halim started plodding slowly forwards. It was a strange motion- up, down, up, down.<br>'To trot, squeeze tighter.'  
>I did. Halim started trotting. My eyebrows furrowed with my nerves. It felt like I was going to fall off.<br>"Whoa," I said, pulling the reins slightly. He stopped. I almost fell off.  
>"OK," I muttered, "That...was strange." Halim whinnied.<br>I squeezed my calves, this time immediately going into a trot. My head jerked forwards a little, sort of like whiplash, but on a horse,  
>"Ouch." I pulled on the reins.<p>

XxX

After a while of stopping and going, my head began to feel heavy. My head was shouting at me:  
>You either keep going, or stop all together!<br>I decided to take a bit of a break, climbing down from Halim. As I did so, my foot got caught, and I fell, face-first, to the ground,  
>"Ow!"<br>I rubbed my nose. Not broken. Now I was on firm ground, my thighs started to ache.  
>"Damn horse riding," I hissed to myself. I scratched behind Halim's ear.<p>

"Time for a round two." I climbed onto the saddle and started at a trot again, despite how much my thighs told me to stop. Halim trotted around the field- in a constant rectangle close to the bush edges. This time, I didn't stop as much as last time, and that seemed easier.


	9. Chores

After what seemed like hours, but was probably only one, I decided to go back to Sheikh . By now, my backside and thighs were screaming, and my back was very achy. I felt like an elderly person.  
>I decided to walk Halim back, instead of ride him.<br>Halim seemed happy that he'd got some freedom.

XxX

I managed to find Sheikh back at the stables.

"Sheikh," I called. He turned around, holding tightly on the rope to Fajera, and looked (roughly) in my direction,  
>"You're back, Novice?"<br>"Yeah. I was wondering if there was anything else for me to do now."  
>He thought for a while. "You can muck out the stables."<br>My jaw dropped. Chores. He wanted me to do chores.  
>I have done cleaning before, but the most I've done was helping Uncle Bill clear out his garage, and dust everything off after that.<br>I put Halim back in his stall (the third one along), then, sighing, I asked where I can find a shovel,  
>"Round the back of the stables," Sheikh replied," And there's two wheel barrels- one for putting the muck in and the other is full of straw. And also- take the horse out of a stall before cleaning."<br>"Where does the horse go once I've taken them out?" I asked.  
>"Use your common sense. But I suggest you use the pasture."<br>I sighed again. Walking around the back of the stables, I found the two wheel barrels. Like Sheikh said, one was full of straw. Over flowing, actually. The other was sort of empty. I say 'sort of' because there was still some manure stuck inside it. I wrinkled my nose at the smell.

XxX

After I'd found all the equipment needed, I looked at the horse at the end of the stables. He (or she) was tall, and had a silky, chestnut-coloured coat, and a white diamond on his (or hers) head.  
>I opened the stable door, and pulled the horse out. I looked around and saw the pasture. It was a very spacious piece of land, surrounded by a fence. I soon had the horse inside the pasture, and it was time to muck out the stall.<br>I picked up the shovel, took a deep breath, and entered the manure-stinking stall.  
>I could just imagine Desmond laughing his head off. I could hear his laughter in my head. I frowned,<br>"Shut up," I muttered to myself. The laughter continued.

XxX

Gratefully, after a long time , I'd finished mucking out all of the stalls in the stables. All of the horses were back in their stalls.

By now, I was exhausted. All I wanted to do now was flop down in my bed. The time was roughly about half past five, but to me, after all of that work, it felt like midnight.  
>"I've finished," I said to Sheikh. My voice sounded tired, and Sheikh detected that.<br>"You may have a rest now, Novice."  
>"Thank you."<br>I walked down the paths, through gates, and up the stairs, until I was back in my room.  
>I looked in the mirror- I had some straw in my messy ponytail. My face was a little mucky, so I scrubbed it down with water. For a few moments, I stared at the scar I'd inherited from the Bleeding Effect. By now, I was used to it, seeing as I've had it for two years, but it still felt strange.<br>I sighed, and splashed a little warm water on my neck.  
>Time for a nap, I decided, after drying myself. I lied down on my bed, and closed my eyes, breathing evenly.<p>

XxX

The sound of food cooking and the smells of eggs, coffee, and bacon wafted up from the kitchen. The stairs creaked beneath the girl's feet as she walked downstairs and looked at the assembled people.

A rather rugged looking Shaun Hastings stood at the stove cooking eggs and sausage. At a low table in the living space, surrounded by cushions and rugs, sat Badr, his fingers tracing over the pages of a Braille newspaper. A young boy a little younger than Sarah, she saw, sat beside him, drawing out a large map of New York City. Footsteps sounded on the stairs behind her and a younger boy walked by, black hair spiked from sleep. He carried a stuffed animal under each arm, a horse and a leocorn. Dropping one, he hugged Badr tightly with the other arm. Badr looked up from his paper and smiled slowly, holding the boy close with one arm. Both of them looked like their father: dark haired, dark skinned.

But they lacked the scars. Now that Badr's head scarf was removed to allow him to eat what was coming, Sarah could see the scars that decorated his face: two savage ones across both his eyes. Shaun took a cross-legged sit on the free space next to them, setting Badr's plate down, then taking the rest from the tray he carried and giving them over to the boys and himself. The younger boy, Kadar, crawled to his lap and hugged him tightly. Shaun smiled and bent his head, kissing his head and running his fingers along his neck and hair gently.

"Dunn wanna, Daddy," the boy was mumbling as Sarah drew nearer to the group. "S'too early."

"Oh, c'mon, Kad," Shaun coaxed. "We get it done early, you can school me at chess after." Kadar curled his fingers into Shaun's shirt, smiling, before turning in the Brit's lap to eat his breakfast. The man had done a remarkable job with the spread: eggs, toast, sausage patties, coffee, tea, and juices. Taking his tea, he blew on it before holding it down to the boy's level, who took a careful sip. Shaun took a swig of the black liquid before setting to eating himself as Badr drank his coffee and ate a little more slowly.

Without looking up from what they were about, Shaun said, "Plate's ready for you in the kitchen, Sarah. Come join whenever you like." Startled, Sarah jumped, but quickly grabbed her plate and sat down with the rest of them. "So, why're you here and not Lex's? Hubby try to stake you?" Badr reached over to smack Shaun with his paper, but the historian ducked it easily enough.

"She was sent here for training," growled the Sheikh. The man changed to Arabic, "A special training Lex is having trouble providing."

Shaun responded in old Renaissance Italian, "I see. And here I thought your brother was all-knowing."

"Watch your tone, historian, if you like your tongue."

"Uncle Shaun, Dad," Malik interrupted, looking up from his map, "not at breakfast. Not this early." The two men looked at one another, Badr slightly to Shaun's right, and broke off their argument. Shaun sipped his tea in silence before Sarah piped up, "What were you saying about Lex?" She looked at Shaun. "Can you tell me anything about him?"

Shaun lifted a brow. What? he thought. She doesn't know anything about her mentor?

"Haven't you talked to him?"

"No."

"Why the bloody hell not then? He's only the most approachable person in the entire bloody Brotherhood." The man lifted his cup to his lips again and took another drink.

"How? He told me that if I moved around his house I'd be killed and so far he's only been about training, besides when he was jumping off buildings." Shaun choked on his tea, coughing and spluttering as he lowered the cup. Kadar reached out and took it, drinking the rest as the Brit gawked at the Novice girl. After a moment, he leaned his face into his palm.

"Oh, Lord, Lex..." After a moment, Shaun picked up his plate and finished his food in silence. Sarah pushed hers around the plate before Badr intoned, "Eat, Novice. You'll be helping us with my other job today."

"But it seemed like one of you was going to tell me about-"

"To learn about my brother, you must watch or speak with my brother." Badr made a face and looked for a moment like he was going to spit onto the floor. "Or look into that machine of Rebecca's."

"Animus, Baba," Kadar murmured, finishing his own plate, "Uncle Shaun calls it an Animus."

"Hmph." Badr stood and wrapped the black headscarf around his head and face again. After depositing their plates into the kitchen, the rest of the family followed. Sarah was the last out, stuffing the rest of the food into her mouth and chewing as she exited the house. She found them in the barn. Kadar and Malik seemed happy and more awake now that they were mucking out the stable and putting down fresh straw, moving easily from one stall to the next. Meanwhile, Shaun and Badr were saddling the horses and slipping bits into their mouths, ears beneath the straps of bridles. Sarah wondered briefly what Badr's other job was exactly that involved horses, until she was ordered to clean and saddle Halim.

"You'll be one of the guides," said Badr. "And you had better not screw up, or I swear I will feed you to Fajera, and not even Allah can protect you from that." Sarah nodded before finishing up with Halim. The boys finished up the rest of the stables and began taking care of the other horses as Shaun and Badr walked Ya-Bint-al-Hawa and Khanum, one of the few stallions among Badr's herds.

Outside, a line of protential riders was already waiting, most of them regulars. Badr actually seemed to smile a moment as he heard a few of the children call his name-at least, his headscarf twitched upward at the cheeks. He went to the fence and addressed the new parents and children, explaining the drill again for the returning students. Shaun mounted Khanum as Sarah glanced over the group from Halim's back. Some of the children leaned on crutches, some carried canes, a few signed to their parents, another handful couldn't seem to sit still, and another seemed unnerved by the amount of people, scratching hard at his ear.

Kadar and Malik led the horses out as Shaun dismounted and, sometimes with the parents' help, began to help the kids up onto their backs, one or more of the parents riding just behind their children. Shaun shot Sarah a look until she too got down and helped with loading up. Once everyone in the first group was mounted, Badr indicated who would lead which line: he with Malik at the rear, Shaun another, and Kadar and Sarah together, Sarah at the rear.

The leaders gave a nod to their groups before turning and starting off toward the fields, each taking a different trail away from the Sheikh's home. As they did, another rider slipped out of the barn, moving along behind them.


	10. The Call

The ride went surprisingly smoothly, apart from Kadar having to keep Sarah's horse in line. Halim was steadfastly opposed to walking along the trails and so would take short cuts through tree branches.

The family of Assassins took the groups back to the main house and then lead another group, switching up who was paired with whom. Finally, all three of the day's groups had ridden and Badr moved Ya-Bint-al-Hawa over to Sarah.  
>"Come. We're going to sleep under the stars tonight."<br>The Assassins made their way to a camp that had been already prepared. Shaun sat tending to a swing pan over a fire, cooking up a few Kosher dogs. The family ate their fill, waiting for Sarah to finish before Shaun passed around a thermos of hot chocolate to each of the children and sending them to bed.  
>Sarah awoke later that night, crawling out to relieve herself. She realized then that the fire had gone out. Frowning, she looked into the other tents. They were empty. The girl began to panic, spinning around, before she spotted a small, flickering light in the distance. Frowning, she stopped to give herself some relief before trudging on toward the light. It turned out to be that of a bonfire. Crouching in the shadows, she settled in to watch the proceedings.<br>A log was set to one side of the fire, and on it were seated three people: a young woman with long black hair, a man with equally dark, wavy hair and light stubble around his chin, a stud in his nose and three earrings per ear, and a man with deep ebony skin and thick dreads. She saw then that each carried an instrument: a Pan flute, a pronged flute, and a drum. Another pair of shadows moved into the light for a moment before taking their seats, one of them Yanko. He and the boy that sat beside him, one with black hair with a white streak running down the center, were equally shirtless. Another man came to the fire, his face bearing the stamp of Puerto Rico.  
>As another pair of men joined them, these both men with close-cropped hair, both tan, Sarah finally saw that each person had a swirling pattern of paint daubed onto their skin: blues, grays, greens, golds. Another woman and man came, these older than the others. As she looked at them, Sarah did a double take. No, her eyes weren't lying. There sat Kadar and Malik, equally done up. Shaun-his face outlined in brown-and Badr-dark gray paint spread over the scars that had caused the loss of his eyes-were there as well. Her mouth fell open. Rebecca? she thought, not trusting her eyes. But yes, the woman was there.<br>Sarah strained her ears. Hoofbeats sounded from somewhere beyond the fire, soon muffled as Yanko picked up a violin, pressed it to his chin, and began to play. The man with the long, dark hair, a black spot painted around each eye, ringed in white, took up his flute. Just as suddenly as they had begun, they quieted.  
>"La shay' haqiqah, koulo shay' moumkin," said a familiar voice. Sarah jumped, staring, squinting toward the fire. The maxim was repeated: Italian, Gaelic, Spanish, German, and English. The figure stepped away from the fire, enough so she could see. Tan skin did little to hide the muscle that was beneath it, showing when he moved, though the height wasn't near that of his companions. Black was painted over his eyes from his temples, moving down his nose and lips and finally coming to a halt at the hollow of his throat. Sarah took in a sharp breath. Lex. It was her mentor.<p>

"Niente è vero, tutto è permesso."  
>"Ní dhéanfaidh aon ní fíor; gach rud ceadaithe!"<br>"Nada es verdad, todo está permitido."  
>"Nichts ist warh, alles ist erlaubt."<br>"Nothing is true; everything is permitted."  
>Lex held up a hand. Silence fell. The Sparrow stood looking at the ground for a moment, or seemed to be, his eyes shut. He lifted his head slowly.<br>"Tonight, we honor those we will see again someday." He lifted his head, smiling. "Someday. But not yet." He thrust his fist toward the sky. "Spend your grief! Hail to the victorious dead! Tonight we are all madmen, mad with sorrow, mad with life, madmen who know one another!" Yanko stood.  
>"Let us drink the wine Aluqah!" he called with a grin.<br>"Let us see our futures in the green smoke of God!" added Kibo, the black man with the drum, holding up a cigarette carton of the long, white-paper-wrapped not-quite-cigarettes full of the Assassins' herb.  
>"Let us find that peace we all strive for, if only for a moment," added one of the men, a gray stripe across his eyes,the one with the close-cropped, blonde hair. Beside him, his partner in thwarting crime nodded. The blonde man stood. "Vincen Schifferson wishes peace upon his grandfather, Roland. May he find enlightenment one day, or at least as much to deal with his brother." Brian stood at that.<br>"Stephen Schifferson of Firth! Your pet skull keeps my shop homey! Grant me a blessing one day, grandfather!" Joey rose.  
>"Husam al Shaweesh, your friend and line are still alive. I hope you're happy."<br>"Elena dei Fieschi, you don't need to worry," said the young woman with Kibo, her chest and cheeks daubed in red. "I've taken up your mantle and keep these boys in line."  
>"Kako Luca, your descendants may have settled, but that is only because we will not be driven from our homes! The Road belongs to us!" Yanko called, striking up a tune on his fiddle.<br>"Malik al Sayf, Gilbert von Bremen, you will never be forgotten," said the boy beside him. The smoke from the hashish began to waft through the air as the Assassins lit and inhaled.  
>"Uberto and Rina di San Gimignano, we are glad to remember your names," said the couple near Shaun and Badr.<br>"Nacho!" the Puerto Rican man yelled suddenly. "Ignacio di San Gimignano, you had better hear me up there and bless my church! I'll swear to making you a bonefide saint!" Kibo took up a sharp, quick tattoo on his drum.  
>"Cipriano Enu! Your people are free in this land!" Brian and Marisol, the woman, lifted up their flutes and began to play as the others moved about the fire, their dance growing faster and faster.<br>"Yusuf Tazim da Istanbul, you know what I'm going to say!" Lex shouted to the sky. "Seni seviyorum, annesine aşkim verin, and may the next time I see you be a long time away!" The music picked up its pace again, the dancers throwing themselves about to the will of the herb and the beat and the flames. Whoops and hollers filled the night air. The Assassins joined hands and moved in a long circle, apart, then toward the fire together, twirling, then to the fire again. They broke into pairs and spun each other around by the arms. A half dozen songs filled the air in just as many languages, Yanko stamping his foot as he sawed away, grinning as he spun and danced himself, as if possessed by some spirit.  
>"Lucy Stillman! You better forgive me too!" Sarah jerked her head up as another face burst from the dark and began to take up a step with the others. Shaun and Rebecca threw their arms around Desmond and spun him around, Rebecca twirling him to Shaun, who dipped him like they were doing the tango.<br>"Luce, he's right! Forgive him! He'd be late for his own funeral, the sod!" he chuckled, smiling at Desmond.  
>"Clay Kaczmarek, your sacrifice wasn't in vain!"<br>"Don't worry! The hay addiction skipped your branch of the tree, Sixteen!" Shaun shouted as he twirled again with Desmond, kicking up his heels. Rebecca giggled as the boys fell on her, kissing her cheeks as they kissed her and each other. Sarah looked away quickly. Kibo and Marisol were trading kisses, Brian nosing in to steal one from each of them. Yanko swung the white-and-black haired boy around, kissing his head as they danced. Malik and Kadar sat clapping their hands and giggling. Joey and Vince were crowing some nonsense, sharing a drink from Joey's flask.  
>Sarah looked toward Badr. The blind man was clapping along with his sons, a smile on his face, which was turned toward the fire, his feet tapping to the beat as well. He stalled as Brian careened into his lap. Feeling over the man's face, he shrugged and leaned down his head, pecking his cheek. The tattoo artist let out a thrilled giggle. The men laughed as they were tugged down by the priest, Malik covering his younger brother's eyes.<br>"Hello, sir, I'd like me a holy Sunday."  
>"Callate, gringo." Domingo planted his lips on them both. Sarah looked up toward Lex. Her mentor was being approached by a tall figure from the shadows. Arms slithered around him and drew him into the dark. No sounds of protest came from the man. The other Assassins glanced up from what they were about, doing various things with clothing and fingers and lips, toward him. Grins spread across their faces, a few letting loose wolf whistles and encouraging yowls as they went back to their business.<p>

**Sarah**

I crouched down in the shadows, not one hundred per cent sure what was happening. I knew the Assassins were smoking Hash, and I knew it was something to do with a call out.  
>Lex was still being held by the dark-skinned man. I saw that he had blue eyes, and was perhaps over six feet tall.<br>Everyone was dancing. And kissing. And I mean, everyone.  
>Sheikh and his sons, who I was pretty sure didn't smoke any hash, were dancing too, and had both called out to someone.<br>Come to think about it, everyone had called out to someone.  
>I heard Yanko play the violin faster.<br>Even more names were shouted out. Some of them, I'd heard of:  
>Claudia Auditore, Ezio's sister.<br>Altair Ibn'La-Ahad.  
>Faheem Al-Sayf, Malik's father<br>Niccolo Polo.  
>Marco Polo, his son.<br>Someone even shouted out to Ahmad Sofian.  
>I actually looked away, feeling a bit grossed out- it was getting a little too much for a thirteen year old to handle.<br>Now the Assassins formed a circle around the fire, and started dancing around it, some still calling out names, others singing songs in different languages. The firelight flicked around them, making their shadows flooding the ground.  
>I spotted an elder couple who didn't seem as drawn to the hash as the others. Nervously, I walked over to them. The woman of the couple smiled, and patted the ground.<br>"Um, excuse me," I said politely, "What's going on?"  
>"It's a call out," replied the man. "Oh, where are my manners. I'm Ben, and this is my wife, Simone."<br>"I'm Sarah...I'm Desmond's second cousin." My eyes quickly flicked in Desmond's direction, then back to Ben.  
>"The new Novice?" asked Ben.<br>I nodded.  
>"This must be quite new for you," said Simone. I nodded in response,<br>"Yeah...I suppose it is. They're on hash, right?"  
>"Yes," replied Simone.<br>"So what happens next?" I asked.  
>"Well, just wait and see. In the meantime, you can call out to someone if you like."<p>

"Really?"

"Yes."  
>"I suppose I could call out to my dad."<br>"I'm sorry to hear that you lost your dad," Ben said, bowing his head a little in respect.  
>"It's all right- he died quite a few years ago now."<br>"Go call him," urged Simone, smiling encouragingly.  
>"Um…all right."<br>Nervously, I stood up.  
>Desmond spotted me, and the corners of his lips twisted upwards. He broke from the circle, and walked over to me.<br>"Sparky," he greeted. "You've met Ben and Simone. Did they tell you to call out to someone?"  
>"Yeah," I replied.<br>"I guess you're gonna call out to James?"  
>I nodded slowly.<br>Desmond rolled his eyes,  
>"You're not scared, are you?"<br>I shrugged, "No…just a little nervous."  
>"Don't be! Just shout out to your dad. Go on."<br>"Okay," I took a breath, and looked at the fire, "Dad! Rest in peace."  
>I had to say, it actually made me feel a little better. It made me feel a little better about everything.<br>But then Desmond just had to take the micky. He snickered,  
>"Seriously? 'Dad, rest in peace'? Is that the best you can do?"<br>I frowned slightly, "At the moment, yeah."  
>Desmond shook his head, laughing amongst himself. Then, he went back to the circle of singing, dancing Assassins.<br>I went back to sit next to Ben and Simone. I'd figured I would sit by them for a while.  
>Ben was had his eyes shut, enjoying the music. Simone was smiling at me.<br>"How often does…this happen?" I asked her.  
>"Every so often. Usually whenever we feel like we need it," she replied. "We support each other. The Assassins are like a family."<br>"Yeah, I've heard that," I muttered, mostly to myself.  
>"Because it's true. Some of these people-" she gestured to everyone,"- may not like each other as much as they should, but if the worst was to come, they would help and save each other."<br>"I guess they would," I replied, nodding. I stayed quiet for a few moments, also listening to the music.


	11. Demand

**A/N An all Sarah chapter.**

**Not all written by me. **

**-Smeggi.**

* * *

><p>The night went on. As did the music. And the dancing. And the hash smoking.<p>

The kissing continued though.

Still, I sat there with Ben and Simone- it didn't matter how many times they told me to go talk to someone, I stayed put. Like a nervous three year old refusing to leave their parents at a birthday party.

It was because I was shy.  
>"Go on," urged Ben.<p>

I shook my head, a small smile on my lips.

"You can't sit by us forever," said Simone, "You'll get bored."  
>"I'm not bored at the moment," I said. I thought again, "Okay, maybe I am a little bored."<br>"Then go talk to someone. "  
>I whimpered shyly.<br>Ben and Simone laughed at my shyness, and Ben gave me a little supportive pat on the shoulder.

XxX

A few minutes went past. Maybe even a few hours. By now, Ben and Simone had given up trying to boost my confidence, and were having a conversation.

It was now very late at night, yet the occasion hadn't calmed down at all. Some people were actually close to being nude.

I was starting to feel quite sleepy, and I started to drift off…

Suddenly, a thought hit me on the head like a hammer, waking me up all of a sudden.

Lex was my mentor, right? He's supposed to train me? I'd say his training was just as 'weak' as Desmond's. And- swords? He's already explained that, but… I was still a little confused. I wanted to know his training method, and how he was going to do things. But all that could wait until the morning.

I was beginning to drift away again. Sighing, I stood up, and headed back to the tents. I crawled inside mine, and tried to ignore the music and singing as I closed my eyes, hoping for sleep to come. The inflatable mattress made this difficult, but I soon made myself comfortable.

XxX

I opened my eyes, yawning and stretching as I did so. There was no sound apart from some snores, and quiet talking.

I climbed out of my tent, breathing in the cool air. Looking around, I'd say it was early. As I wandered to where the fire had been, I froze, eyes widening. There were some assassins laying half-naked, and fully-naked around where the fire was. I heard a couple of tired groans.

My eyebrows furrowed, and I retreated back to my tent.  
>"Okay," I muttered, sitting on the mattress, "That…was …different."<p>

I sat there for a few moments, as if everything would all go away.

Of course it wouldn't. I plucked up the courage to go back outside. I looked around again- most of the tents were gone. I hadn't realised that last time. There were only about four tents left apart from mine.

I decided to try and find the Sheikh. What else was there to do?

XxX

I eventually found Sheikh, Shaun , Malik and Kadar, and decided to stick with them. They were in Sheikh's house.

Shaun had Kadar sitting on his lap, like the other day. Lex was there, too , having some breakfast, a piece of toast on his plate.

Sheikh's head turned in my direction. So did Shaun's. But Lex resumed eating his food.

"Um, Lex?" I asked him. He looked up from his plate, his face slightly tired. Well, maybe not slightly. He had dark circles under his eyes, as if he hadn't slept in a week. "I've been meaning to ask you...about your training methods."

Lex frowned and chewed the piece of toast he'd bitten off, rubbing at his eyes and coming away with remnants of black paint from the night before. Swallowing, he said thickly, "Okay. Just lemme wake up a little more, Sarah. Besides, breakfast isn't for business."

I frowned.

"Why not? People discuss things at breakfast, don't they? I need a rough idea now," I said, "so that I know what there is to expect."

"I can't guarantee what there is to expect. No one can. Look, kid," he said, running a hand through his hair. It came away shiny with grease. "I have to prepare you for every eventuality. That's a lot to ask. If you want to know my training methods, Google translate the word enseñar."

"Yeah, but-" I stopped as he looked up at me from his toast with a sharp, sideways stare. Sighing, he shook his head.

"Min fadlak, bas. I've told you all I can for the moment. Otherwise, do as I suggested."

I felt my annoyance growing with his refusal to answer my question in plain English. I think my face must've darkened; Shaun threw me a wary look before Kadar tugged his shirt and he returned his attention to the boy. I decided to give it one last try, moaning, "But I want an idea..."

"Well, put that three pound lump of ground chuck and hash between your ears to work and think on it, Novice!"

"Why won't you explain it to me in plain English?" I snapped, having enough of him. "And why have you been keeping me here with your brother? I mean, aren't you supposed to be my mentor? That's why Desmond and Uncle Bill sent me here, right?" No answer. Just silence in the room, and the sound of crunching toast and the settling of the coffee mug back down onto the table, his eyes on me. I let out a groan of anger, throwing my hands up in the air. "Great! Great. I'm being trained by someone who has no idea about anything, obviously! I wish they'd never sent me here to such a useless man!"

I found myself on the floor, my face filled with spasms of pain. The Sheikh stood above me, his face fixed in a snarl.

"Who are you to come into my house and insult my brother in front of me? Curb your tongue, girl, or I'll feed you to my horse."

"Badr. Badr!" The man startled and looked toward Lex, who drew him away with Malik's help.

"C'mon, Baba," said his son, tugging his arm. The Sheikh relaxed, taking his seat once again and holding his further threats somewhere on his tongue, sightless eyes still cocked toward me.

"Sarah." I looked at Lex. He had his hand held out toward me; he took mine and pulled me up to my feet. He sighed, "I'm sorry. Look, lemme clear up my stuff here, we'll go to the kitchen and get your face some ice-" He staggered as I shoved him back. I glared at him, confused, frustrated, hurt. The conversation had just gone in a loop that ended with me being punched in the face.

"You're a terrible teacher!" I shouted, then stormed up to my room.

I collapsed on my bed, thinking through what had just happened. The anger faded as I began to feel tired, my body relaxing slightly. I think I fell asleep because I began to dream.

My dreams started out very familiarly. I was inside the Animus, waiting at the loading screen for my memories to begin playing like a video. Instead, a form began to walk out of the mist surrounding me, one I didn't recognize clearly at first, but I knew him to be an Assassin by his hood.

"Altair?" I called, expecting the Assassin Master to be the one to visit my dreams as he had many times. The form continued toward me silently. I frowned, seeing an odd shape on his back-a bag much like the one I'd seen at Brian's shop. But why would I be dreaming about Brian? "Who's there?"

When a voice sounded from the figure with the back, it had a heavy, strangely mixed-up sounding voice, some intonations from Arabic, others from German and still others from the Scottish I'd heard last night from the tattoo artist: "Looks like we found the wee Novice, Willy me friend." I shuddered when the hood lowered and I saw a man who looked very similar to the tattoo artist, only much more grim. "Ye wanna have a good lesson, wee one? So, we will get ye one. Maybe ye will think a li'l different of yer teacher." The surroundings blurred, more shades coming from the now growing haze, gathering around me.

First came two tall figures, both long haired and blonde, and beside them walked a smaller female over whose shoulders dark black locks curled. Next to her was a small young man, his face split by a scar, his eyes fixed on me, giving me a serious stare. These ones were followed by a young Arab looking man, older than the smaller one, face decorated with a mustache and goatee. His face was cut nearly into quarters by four diagonal scars. He glared at me openly, anger showing in his face.

"What-what do you want from me?" The young woman, who looked similar to the one who last night had had her chest and face painted red, stepped forward and spoke, her voice hard, "You asked to be taught the Assassins' ways, and since you were not pleased with the man who taught us and whom we proudly call friend and brother still, we will take care of you."

"T-take care of me? Why?" I looked between all of them. "Who are all of you?" I looked at the man who looked like Brian again. "Are-are you the man Lex called Stephen of Firth?" I swallowed hard as he just barely moved his head, though whether it was nodding or not was hard to say. "Who are the rest of you?" I flinched as the young man stepped forward, the one with the single scar, but couldn't help staring at him when he spoke with a British accent, a Londoner's accent.

"My name is Samuel. I was part of the London Contadini and the Owlets. I was the Tawny Owl." The Arab man came forward after he finished, glaring straight into my eyes.

"I am Husam al Shaweesh." I stared more at him, remembering the name as the one Joey had called at the memorial. This was his ancestor? "I am the one called Scars and I was one of the Nightmaster's Owlets as well. I was second-in-command of the Contadini."

I moved back a little further as the two blonde men and the woman moved forward with the Brian lookalike.

The taller of the two blondes, wearing a patch over one eye, reminded me strongly of Vincent, yet he looked so much stricter and much less kind as he crossed his arms over his broad chest.

"My name is Roland of Bremen, brother to the Stormbird and husband to the Robin." He placed a hand on the woman's shoulder. My mind whirled as I tried to remember the name called in the hash-filled night...what had it been, Elena? The woman spoke again, "And we three had the honor to be among the first students of the man you pushed away so carelessly." The man who looked like Roland's brother-no, more like his twin-stepped forward at last.

He spoke in Arabic, but his accent gave him away as a foreigner; he spoke strictly as well, but with a little less harshness than Roland, "I am Gilbert of Bremen. I was the first one whom the Sparrow taught our brethren's ways."

The surroundings blurred and suddenly we stood in the courtyard of Masyaf. Gilbert stood beside me, but another Gilbert stood in the courtyard, watching with his arm around a young, black haired woman as a boy with black and white hair, much like the one I'd seen at the bonfire, sparred against Lex in the training ring. "His kindness showed me this path I would never have found without him. If he hadn't had mercy with me, either the Templars swords' or the Assassins' blades would have drunk my blood in a war that was not mine. He taught me to show this kindness to others and not to give in to one's anger and impatience."

"But I can't help my impatience," I exclaimed. "I get it from my ancestor, Maria Thorpe!" Gilbert let out a derisive laugh.

"Your ancestress Maria was a woman I was well acquainted with. A kind Mistress to the Assassin Order she was." He looked toward where the scene had changed, to where I saw what Rebecca had pulled me away from seeing before with the Animus. Maria lay next to a mutilated body I could only assume was Abbas' former Novice, Swami, cradled in Altair's arms, clutching at her husband, the lifeblood flooding from her throat and over his arms and chest. "She knew her tactics well, knew how to hold her impatience and to keep her husband's own in check. But for this last time..." He looked at me. "I would say you gain this brashness more from the Grandmaster than his wife."

That was it. I clenched my fists at my sides and shouted up at him, "Don't you dare say that of Altair! What do you know of him?"

I staggered as the scene sudden evaporated in one part like smoke as the other man, the one Roland had called Stormbird, who I assumed was Stephen, lunged forward. Gilbert took a firm stance and put a hand out, keeping him back. He looked down at me.

"Do you want to learn the ways of the Assassins or don't you, kleines Maedchen?" Looking at Stephen, I swallowed and nodded slowly. Whatever these people wanted me to do, it was only a dream, wasn't it? I wouldn't really get hurt...would I? I could handle anything they threw at me.

Elena stepped forward and took my hand. The surroundings blurred and I found myself and her in the courtyard of the Castel St. Angelo. Bomb craters lined the cobblestone pavement and the air was heavy with the cries of the wounded and the dying. Elena grasped my arm tight and led me through the masses: Romani clad in various colors and monks in brown. She smiled at a couple that looked somehow familiar to me, a couple that was taking care of some of the injured. The woman was sewing wounds shut after cleaning them on a man who'd taken more than a few stabs and slashes, it looked, nearly spilling his guts with one of them, and the man speaking soothing words to a dying man who'd somehow had both his legs taken from him below the knee.

They were helped by two young men, one wiry with curly black hair and a fresh face and dressed in monk's robes, the other in the colorful clothes of the wandering people. The young monk gave Last Rites to the dying, the older man closing the eyes of his fellows, more than a few of which lay scattered amid the dead or injured in the courtyard.

"See? Being an Assassin is far more than being good with blades and knowing how to fight. Without these healers, our brothers and sisters would be lost."

"But we have doctors where I'm from." I was silenced by the Robin's strict glare.

"There will be a time when you are alone. What will you do then? Leave the injured behind? The Assassins' art is not only life denying, little one, but life affirming." Another smile lit her face when the two scarred Assassins walked towards her. She nodded to them, then everything blurred again.

Samuel stood beside me now.

"I'm showing you one of my memories, sister, so that you know what sacrifices can be made as an Assassin."

I looked upon the scene. There was another Samuel, a Samuel as yet without a scar. He was fighting, surrounded by what looked like giant crows, or people dressed as plague doctors with crow feathers on all the rest of their clothes. Behind him was the building he was protecting. I could just make out shapes in the doorway. A scream broke my concentration away from staring into the building. A splash of blood now colored Samuel's face, a blade having cleaved it nearly in half slantwise. It had just missed his eye. He put his hidden blade into the attacker's throat, tearing it out in time to block another strike before a shot ran out. With a squawk, another of the black-cloaked men went down. Waving to the reinforcements as the people inside, a few nuns and many children and invalids, came pouring out into the secured street, Samuel ran off.

"Why're you leaving them behind?" I snapped, but Samuel stared ahead. I looked back at the memory Samuel. Blood was smeared across his red sleeve, dying it a deeper red, as he swiped the liquid from his eyes. It dripped into the snow he ran through atop the roofs, eyes scanning the streets below. He stopped, panting, his breath white clouds on the wintry air, eyes wide.

"Lo!" The word surged forth from his mouth, it felt, before he could stop it. The Tawny Owl sprang down to the street toward what we'd seen from above: a broken, bloodied body that lay half-curled and nearly buried in the growing drifts. I leaned forward, eager to see who he'd discovered, only to do a double take as Samuel pulled my mentor from the snow and cradled him in his arms. His skin was blue, except for where the blood had dried and become black. Two men ran up, older men, both having the Assassin hoods down on their backs as they helped Samuel stand with his burden and hurry Lex back to the place he'd been guarding.

There he sat over the Sparrow until my mentor woke up and said something, but what was said I never caught. The memory was fading away, Samuel nodding over his shoulder to someone behind us. I looked and saw the unequal brothers, the tall Stephen and the taller Roland. The familiar blur came again, this time so bright I had to close my eyes. The brothers had brought me back to the Castello; they were showing me another common memory. The woman Simone had called at the memorial, Rina, was walking with Yanko's ancestor, the one he'd called Kako Luca, the man I realized had been in Elena's memory as well, helping the young monk with the injured and dead.

They were speaking in a tongue I didn't recognize with one another, when a young Novice who looked about my age walked up to them and started to insult them severely. I stared at him, almost shocked, wondering what they'd done to make him angry.

"Bastardo!" I whipped my head around. The word wasn't yelled across the courtyard, but it echoed as if it had been, and all the menace it held flowed easily toward its victim, as well as the menace in the words that followed. The Sparrow's voice was low, almost a whisper that increased in intensity and venom as he drew near to the offending Novice, sounding in such a way that I'd never heard from him and hoped I never would have to again. "Figlio di puttana! Merda!" He shoved his target back. "Cagna! Stronzo!" The words changed to Arabic and became downright horrible; he shook the Novice by his robes as the poor guy's back met a wall. "Fatah! Add ma emmak neketo la bayyak men tizo, hebil fik men bayadto!" The Novice had peed himself by the time Lex finished. The smaller man jerked him around and planted his foot into his backside, shoving him so he faceplanted into the cobbles. Lex pointed to the far end of the Castello. "Rouh ya Ayr!" His face was almost purple with rage as he shouted in thickly accented Italian: "ORA!"

I found myself pressed back by the brothers' sides, staring at the man I was trying to compare with the one from this morning.

"Wh-what-why-" I looked at the two men, not understanding. I knew the words, despite Desmond and Uncle Bill's lack of knowledge of my knowing them, but I didn't understand the situation.

"We had tried in a nice way to teach 'im some manners. Even ol' Willy gave it a try." The Scot grinned, hugging his shoulder bag.

Roland shook his head and continued where Stephen left off, "He was told not once, not two times how to be respectful. But he thought he knew the ways of the Creed and the Assassins better, as he came from an old Assassin family, but all he could do was insult people, be a loud-mouth and try to set himself in a brighter light by beating up weaker Novices." I looked at him. That's unfair, I thought. I never behaved like that. But before I could open my mouth and say something about it, Stephen put a finger onto his lips, giving me a sign to remain quiet.

Husam set a hand on my shoulder. For a moment, I saw the world like a movie. Then he and Lex were in front of the Auditore family villa in Monteriggioni in the sword-training ring, fighting against one another. Not fighting as Lex and Amir had been fighting in Gilbert's memory, but really going at it. I did a double take at the spectators around the ring. Two other men dressed in red were there, as well as... No way, I thought, staring. My eyes must've been playing tricks on me. Before I could confirm that I hadn't started hallucinating in my dream, I was drawn back to the fight.

Scars slashed at Lex with his sword. I knew what I would have done then: gone straight in for the perfect gap he'd made between his legs. Lex didn't, though. Instead, he hooked his hands beneath the upper rung of the fence and flipped himself backward, kicking Scars beneath the chin as he did. Landing in a crouch, he watched the Owlet fall to the ground. The others laughed. Lex shot them a look until they were silent. Once done that was done, he hopped down and pulled the other man up.

"Have you ever had a best friend?" I looked at Husam as he asked the question. The man looked back at me before disppearing, leaving me with the question I had yet to answer.

Then a heavy voice with a Turkish accent came from somewhere nearby, the landscape changing to that off a dusty area filled with early morning sunlight, turning the dust to motes of shimmering gold. Outlines of books were dim all around, but I still couldn't locate the source of the voice, although I realized it was indeed that of a man.

The voice said, "You are not like that hare that fell prey to the Sparrow's dagger-tongue, but your flaws are similar. You lack respect, and what is worse, you lack trust. When the elders treat you like a child, it is not because they want to mock you, but to keep you safe. We are a family and we care for each other. Hierarchy is something for those Templar bastards. Maybe the Master is more skillful than the Novice, but both lives are worth the same. No one is better than the other. Give respect and be respected." The haze grew brigher again, the ghosts appearing as silhouettes around me. For a last time, I heard the Turkish man's voice, "When you see Skandar next time and apologize, tell him my greetings."


	12. Apologies

Shaun stood with his arms folded across his chest, which was clad for once not in a sweatervest and shirt and slacks with loafers but jeans, a leather belt, Converse, and a black-sleeved, white-bodied T-shirt with Judge Me By My Size, Do You? on the front and Yoda standing and staring at a roller coaster's height measurement sign on the back. He watched as the Master Assassin in front of him sparring against the air with his kilij.

"Give her a chance," he said after a moment. His answer was the swishing of the sword through the air. "C'mon, Lex, she's lost both her parents. It's not as if she's any good role models."

"I won't give her pity for that." Lex stabbed the air savagely, turning to the Brit. "You of all people should know why I won't give her an ounce of pity for that. We've all lost our parents, Shaun, even you. When was the last time you went to see them, anyway? Did you even stop in for tea when you and Becca were over visiting St. Michael's Mount?"

The Harrier said nothing, but held the Sparrow in his gaze, his eyes unreadable behind his specs. Lex pushed his hair back from his eyes.

"D'you remember how you were before all the stuff in Rome?"

"Of course. How could I forget that?"

"Sarah needs that. She needs her Rome."

"Did you ever have a Rome, Lex?"

"Baptism of fire, blood, and brimstone, my friend." The Assassin men looked at one another before Shaun moved to stand in front of his friend and knelt to be at eye level with him, a hand on his shoulder. They stayed this way for a long moment before the Englishman stood and brushed the other's hair back from his eyes. Lex reached up and pressed Shaun's glasses a little higher on his nose.

Hearing the creak of weight on wood, they looked toward where Sarah stood, watching them. Sighing, Lex sheathed the kilij into the belted sheath at his waist. Shaun gave his shoulder a squeeze.

"Safety and peace, Alessio. May you live long and prosper."

"Safety and peace, Nino. May the Force be with you." The two parted ways as Lex pocketed his hands and waited for Sarah to finish her solemn march toward him.

**Sarah**

I nervously tucked my hands into my sleeves. A plain 'sorry' wouldn't make up for the things I said to Lex. And the things I said to him were just downright mean. Although, I was extremely annoyed when he wouldn't tell me the answer to my question directly. But then again, that dream…  
>Lex stared down at me, an unreadable expression on his face.<br>"Look," I said, "Lex. I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said."  
>"It's okay," he replied. 'It's okay'? No it wasn't.<br>"No it isn't! I shouldn't have had a go at you. After I-" I stopped myself from going any further. I would just say more insults. I tried again, picking my words carefully,  
>"I shouldn't be so disrespectful. I wish I wasn't so impatient." This was true. I hated my impatience. And so did everyone who'd witnessed it.<br>"It's okay," he said again, "You just have to learn to know what time things are suitable to talk about."  
>I nodded and rubbed my sore, swollen nose. The position of it didn't feel right-it was somewhat crooked.<br>"C'mon," he said, "Let's get you some ice for your face."  
>He led me to the freezer, where he took out an icepack. He pulled out a towel from a draw, and wrapped it around the ice. Then he handed it to me.<br>"Thanks," I muttered, wincing quietly at the coldness on my face.  
>"I suppose you should apologise to my brother," suggested Lex.<br>I frowned,  
>"He was that offended?"<br>A nod. I let out a small groan.  
>"Where is he?"<br>"Somewhere around the house. Malik and Kadar are with him."  
>"So I suppose I'd better go find him, then?"<br>"Yeah. Just a warning- he doesn't forgive easily. You might have to get down on your knees and beg."  
>"Will I?"<p>

"Yeah."

I listened for the sound of talking, and heard a muffled sound. I followed it, and(with the icepack still pressed against my nose)let take me upstairs, outside the door of Malik's room. I took a breath, and knocked on the door. Without waiting for a reply, I opened the door.  
>I quickly glanced around the room- The walls had highly-detailed maps of countries, cities, towns and continents plastered on them. A bed sat against the far wall, and a wardrobe stood on by the east wall. Malik was standing, gesturing to different parts of the map, talking. Sheikh sat on a chair, with Kadar on his lap.<br>"Sheikh?" I said. The Sheikhs' eyes cocked towards me, and hardened,  
>"If you've come up here to insult my family and I any further, I'd advise you to go back to that bar of your relative's."<br>I ignored the comment, and kept calm,  
>"No," I said, "I've come to apologise."<br>"To apologise?" this sounded like a sneer.  
>"Yeah. What I said was mean and disrespectful. I didn't mean it- I was just frustrated at the time."<br>"So whenever you get frustrated, you'll offend somebody?"  
>I stayed quiet, and until now, I'd realised that Malik and Kadar hadn't said a word since I'd came in.<br>"Precisely. Now leave this room."  
>"I want to make sure that I'm forgiven," I said, my tone slightly louder than I'd intended it to be. At least a plain 'no' didn't come out of my mouth- God knows what would've of happened to my nose if I'd let that happen.<br>"Give me a good enough reason, and maybe I will," he replied in a disbelieving tone.  
>"Your brother has kindly taken me in as his novice," I said, positive on what I was doing, "I had no intention in insulting him, and I know I shouldn't have just walked into your house, and shouted at him. I'm sorry."<br>I was quite pleased with that.  
>"Fine. But if you insult any of my family again, even the slightest hint, not only I'll do more than break your nose, I'll-"<br>"-Badr," came a voice behind me. I turned to see Lex standing me behind me, giving his brother a careful look, despite the Sheikh not being able to see it, "Don't scare the kid."  
>How long had Lex been there? I thought.<br>Then another thought had popped into my head: the Sheikh had forgiven me. I resisted the urge to grin triumphantly.

**Lex**

A small smile tugged at the corners of the young Master Assassin's face as he turned and walked back toward the front door with his Novice. "Be glad he's not my father."

"Why?" Sarah asked, looking at him curiously. Lex ran a hand through his hair.

"I smart-mouthed my father once after nearly botching a very sensitive mission. He beat me about the face and head, dragged me up the tower steps by my ear, then hung me from the window for the night with my arms and legs bound and no hay below me. The next day no one was allowed to speak with me or hear me-it was as if I was dead to them. This was the punishment for my insolence and arrogance, to feel what it was like to be dead to the Brotherhood, a punishment for even acting as if I could flout the tenets, especially the third." A small laugh escaped him. "The Peasants-my students-they begged him to stop this treatment of me, saying he'd gone too far with it as I was a blubbering, begging mess. He treated me thus for two more days, demoting me to Novice for a day afterwards, but..."

Lex looked up toward the sky, hands in his pockets as they left the house. "But my students interceded for me again." He swallowed hard. "I was promoted to Grandmaster of my own band of men for it, for their loyalty." He looked over at Sarah. "My father was right, though, and I never was smart to him again."

During the story, Sarah remembered the voice in her dream.

"Lex," she began and paused. "I-I had a dream. A man said to give Skandar his greetings after I apologized."

The Sparrow stood silent, blinking, for a good minute as he digested the information. Then a grin spread over his lips as he closed his eyes, a soundless chuckle shaking him.

"Seems I'll have to greet him in return."

"But who was he?"

"Oh, you'll find out sometime. I'm sure someone of the Crew will tell you if you ask, if you don't go looking through Shaun's files or our journals." Lex returned to walking, lifting his hand in greeting to the tall German walking toward them. "All set to go, Vinnie?" Vincent nodded.

"You know we are, Spaetzlein. Only one member short." The tall Falcon looked down at Sarah. "Well, little one? Are you ready to come with us? We'll be heading to our flat now, so you just may get some exercise in before we all settle down for the day." He set a hand on Lex's shoulder, ruffling his hair a bit. "Rest well, my friend. I'll be having her first."

"Oh, I will. I trust you, Falcon." He squeezed the soldier's arm. "May you help her find enlightenment and whatever else the Buddha said was on that path."

"And may you find some measure of safety and peace while you figure out how to say farewell to a Buddhist," laughed Vincent as he drew the smaller man into a tight, quick embrace. Pulling away, he put his hand gently on Sarah's back and led her to where Brian, Kibo, and Marisol stood. Once the two had joined them, the group set off toward their flat.


	13. New people

The next morning, I got up early. To my surprise, everyone was already up and awake and dressed, having breakfast at the table. Why is everyone always up so early? I wondered. Sighing, I joined Vincent, Brian, Marisol, and Kibo. I then noticed there was an extra man at the table, the one who had fallen asleep during the memorial ceremony. The man's eyes flicked to me. Finishing a piece of egg that he'd put into his mouth, he said, "Asalaamu alaykum." He waited, as if expecting an answer. After a minute, he turned to Brian and repeated, "Asalaamu alaykum."

"Wa alaykum salaam," came from around a Nutella-and-banana-coated piece of toast. My mouth instantly began to water. I jumped when the man from before said in English, "Thank you for replying to my greeting at all, little girl."

Kibo couldn't help a chuckle, seeing Joey looking equally grumpy to his cat. No miracle he was in a bad mood, hardly having slept at all. I must have looked something between helpless and **, but before I could mouth something, Brian smiled at me widely, "Don't take Joey too serious, lil one." He motioned to a chair. "Fridge's over there. Help yourself to what ye like and have a seat. Dunna how much the wee sparrow told ye about us, so guess we should get to know each other before work of the day starts. Got at least one hour for that, or when do your courses start, Sunny?" Marisol answered while fighting with peeling an orange, "Hm, actually I already should be there, but the first three hours its only theoretical thermodynamics, can skip that I guess." My eyes got a little wider. It seemed that people here really got up early.

Vincent nodded at his Scottish cousin, "Joey and me took a few days off, so that's fine with us too."

I looked at where Brian had pointed and went to the fridge, retrieving some bread to make myself some Nutella toast too. Once that was done, I came back and sat down, chewing some of the warm chocolate covered bread before answering, "Lex didn't tell me anything at all about anything, honestly." I couldn't help but flinch a little, remembering the woman from my dream-Elena-as Marisol looked at me with her eyes wide as if she couldn't believe what I'd just said.

Encouraged by what Brian had said, though, I asked Vincent quickly, "So, what's happening today that you took off?" I took a breath and hurried on with, "What can you guys tell me? I mean, I didn't mean to sound so..." I glanced at Marisol. "Well..." I shut myself up.

Vincent nodded to his other cousin from Italy, knowing that patience never had been my forte either. "Easy little one." His eyes smiled when he realized that I didn't like being called that at all, but being the youngest among them for now; I would have to accept it. "Lex asked if we could show you around a bit, well teaching you how we keep things here and getting to know the ways of the brethren a little better. As far as I am informed Dessy's father trained you so far, so it is good you learn about other point of views too, seeing that we are a rather mixed lot here. Don't know how much Simone told you about us."

"She said some things, but not a lot." I looked at him, then around the table. "But Uncle Bill did train me. Mostly combat and Arabic." Joey snorted, making Vincent give him a look. The man sighed and was nudged forward by Vincent.

"It seems I've been elected to speak first," he said, then fell into Arabic. "My name is Yusuf al Shaweesh. I can trace my line back to Husam al Shaweesh, one of the Novices under the command of the Red Owl, called the Owlet by some and Scars by many, and second in command of the Peasants."

Vincent gave him a smile, switching to Arabic as easily, which made my eyes go a little wider- I'd never expected the tall blonde man to even know the language, "Full name's Vincent Schifferson. Me and Joey are responsible for the more or less rough work, helping when a little strength is needed, but observation and protecting allies belongs to our tasks too."

Brian grinned, "And when the two are not occupied with saving the world from evil Templars, they put on fancy uniforms and ran around handcuffing people." Joey glared at the tall man with the wavy dark hair and the many piercings dangling on his ears, but couldn't help smiling when Brian blew him a kiss. It was hard to be angry with Brian for a long while. I was confused, not understanding what Brian was hinting on.

Marisol, who had finally dismembered her orange, explained, "Police. And before you protest, Sarah: Working behind the lines is also important. So we can protect ourselves better and there is always someone who can help if a brother or sister is caught and charged for something." She smiled at the Rasta-Priest sitting next to her. Suddenly a mobile phone rang and disturbed the little conversation. Vincent stood up, looked at the display, sighed loudly and left for one of the private rooms. From the next room quick German talking could be heard.

When he came back he looked a little worried, "Emily again. She asked me to take the girls for the next weekend, as she has to go to the hospital again. Doesn't fit the plans, but well..."

"No problem, Großer, can take care of my niece Meme Louise will be over joyous if I take them to visit her."

"Who's Emily?" I asked. Brian made an X with his fingers. I blinked, frowning, then looked at Vincent. "Wait, you mean you have kids, Vincent?" The tall man looked at me like I'd just grown an extra five sets of eyes.

"Yes, of course, I have two daughters," he said and smiled. "Or did you think me one of those ascetic monks who sits around and says he doesn't contemplate women while he contemplates women?" The others shared a grin, though only just got the joke. I looked at Kibo and asked, "Who's...Meme Louise?"

"His chicken-killing creepy voodoo grandmother," Joey muttered, adding on afterward, "Ya Allah...all those chickens..."

"Hey, nothing against me meme. Grandma is like she is and I love her that way. She helped us out many times, owlet." Joey lifted his hands as if to pacify the other men. Marisol laughed softly and shook her head, some of the dark locks escaping from the braid in which she had tugged most of them. She looked at her boyfriend giving him the chance to introduce himself first.

"Kibo," said the Rasta man, taking my hand with one of his dark ones. "Just Kibo." He smiled and added, "While my meme Louise is a priestess of voodoo and th'old spirits, I practice Rasta." He struck a pose, chin tilted upward. "If ya couldna tell from mah powah dreads." The other Contadini had a good chuckle at the display. "I trace me line back to Cipriano Enu, de archah o' Italy, Assassin under Ezio Auditore and leader o' his own band o' Ethiopian recurved bowmen."

"And this is me little sun. Cousin to both of these guys here" he motioned to Brian and Vincent and then quickly when, he thought unwatched, he took the pieces of orange on the young woman's plate.

"Sneaky as usual?" she mockingly raised her eyebrow and pecked his cheek, "Marisol. But Sunny is okay too. Came here some years ago from Italy to study Physics here and well, since these boys needed somebody to keep an eye on them." Vincent shook his head and grinned, when he thought "And our uncle told us to look a bit after you." But that was how things worked with the Contadini. No one of them was flawless and each knew both weaknesses and strength of the other, helping to keep the balance between.

"Kibo's ears and eyes to us, he always knows who to ask and where to look. And he usually goes as backup together with Mari, them being rather good with sniping tools and explosives." Joey wanted to say something but Vincent gave him a look as if to say, better than you in any case. "And last but not least Brian." He looked at his cousin who was trying to build a tower with the remnants of his breakfast.

"Brian Schifferson," greeted the man stacking his food. "Resident Pastafarian and representative of His Noodliness to the world of the Assassins." Stuffing the food in his mouth, he gave it three great chews and had it down his gullet before unbuttoning the only buttons done on his shirt and spreading it open, showing off his intricate tattoos. "I also am the resident ink master. Gave all this lot of Peasants our sign." He turned onto his knees and pulled his shirt up to show the owl and sparrow seated on his lower back.

Marisol couldn't help grinning when she saw Joey's glance when Brian presented his artwork, but she didn't comment. It was enough for the young one to digest, so she didn't have to add the whole rather complicated relationships, she would get familiar with that soon enough. She looked to the clock, sighed and prepared to leave for her classes. "By the way guys, has anyone Stanley? Seems he sneaked out again, so please if ya see him, just put back, will you?" She kissed Kibo's lips gently "See you tonight, Sarah."

After she had left, the breakfast went on for a little while, the men discussing chores left to do and other things concerning the Contadini affairs.

I leaned back, finishing her toast, and happened to glance down as something fuzzy tickled her arm. I screamed, bolting up from my seat. The spider spread out his legs and landed on the table, scurrying over toward Kibo and Vincent as I screamed, "Kill it! Kill it!"

Vincent took the tarantula up gently, "There you are, little guy. Sorry for the shock, guess Stanley didn't mean it. And if I were you I would not try to kill Mari's pet spider. Not a good idea at all. If you finished eating, you can come over in my private room. Joey and I will show around a bit and you can ask what you want to know." Brian pouted some as it was his turn to do the dishes, but obligation was obligation.

I took a minute to calm down and get dressed in my jeans and one of Desmond's T-shirts before heading toward the room Vincent was at. Thankfully, no spiders were present. I looked around the room. It was painted a cool gray-blue color, sparsely furnished with a bed, sheets tucked with no sign of a wrinkle, a closet with a simple sliding Japanese paper-and-wood door, and a small chest of drawers with a miniature sand garden on top of it.

I looked at Vincent again. He was working to unplug a lava lamp and CD player. "Sorry," he said, glancing up at me. "Brian and Kibo were in here last time they decided to have a little 'meditation' time for their own." He took the items and set them outside the door before motioning me to come in, taking a cross-legged sit that made my legs hurt just looking at it. Vincent smiled and waited until I'd been seated before nodding to Joey, who came in and took a seat beside him, crossing his legs Turkish style.

I took a seat and looked at them, trying to make myself look as serious as possible as I said, "Personally, I don't how religions and Assassins come together. Buddhists are peaceful, aren't they?" I looked at Vincent. "They don't like harming other beings. Then why would there be a Buddhist Assassin?" I looked at Joey. "And Christian Assassins, I've heard of them too. What about 'Thou shalt not kill'? There're just a lot of things I don't get. And I suppose I never will understand some of them, but it ** me off that no one will ever take the time to explain things to me. I hate being treated like a kid, even if I am one to you people." I stopped myself before I could start ranting in earnest.

Vincent sat there, looking thoughtful, Joey looking at him just as silently. They stayed this way for so long that I began to squirm until Joey shot me a look. Then Vincent spoke, "We do not take religion as a shield, little one, or as an excuse. The most important thing for us is to provide the chance for people to decide freely what they want in life and what their way of life should be. That is what we fight for, even if it means the violation of our own beliefs."

"Our newest member, Nats," said Joey, picking up where Vincent left off, "has a belief that states very clearly what all religions profess toward their holders: 'In that it harm none, do as ye will.' We seek to give people that chance. Besides, his way"-he set a hand on Vincent's shoulder-"is not merely religion but way of life. Every day he lives thus, practicing what he preaches. If he can help it, he will harm none and let them do as they like. My religion, too, says that we shall not murder, for that is the true crime originally stated in the Torah from which the commandment you quote comes. The Templars, though, have taken many forms, from Crusaders to the Pope himself. They use religion as a tool to gain power, misusing it as a means to a world-dominating end. We try to prevent this end."

"But I don't understand," I said, frowning deeply. "There-It-" I shut up for a second to order my words and get them out of my mouth properly. "It makes no sense. Like Lex training me with swords when it's the 21st century. We can use guns now! Why should I need to know how to use a sword? So if you don't follow religious teachings like not killing, why do you practice them at all?"

"For faith. For hope." I jerked my head up. Vincent leaned back against the wall. "For something to believe in, even if we know in our hearts that it's all bunk for the most part, or don't know if it's bunk at all. Our heads mess with all of us, little one. We're like men who've lived to long-and some of us truly have outlived our God given number of years." He looked me straight in the eyes. "When you're holding a man's blood in the stump that remains of his leg while another fastens a tourniquet around it and helps transport him, he will be saying one or both of two things: God help me, God help me, I don't want to die and Mommy, I wanna go home. When you've seen things like that, little one, then you will truly know why we Assassins still attempt to keep our faiths."

Joey put an arm around his back, hand squeezing his shoulder. "Easy, big one." I stared at Vincent, seeing he was shaking, his fists clenched. "Salaam, sadiqi. Salaam. Frieden." Vincent looked at him. "Frieden. Du bist sicher." The blonde man nodded stiffly a few times before letting out a breath I realized then that he'd been holding.

"Kein Krieg," he whispered, passing a hand over his stubby head. "Kein Krieg jetzt."

Joey turned his eyes toward me, folding his arms over his knees and leaning on them, asking softly, almost whispering, "What more would you like to know, little one?" I clenched my fists at the name. It was getting annoying very quickly.

"What are you?" I asked. He blinked and answered, "A Muslim."

"What about the others?"

"Vincent is Buddhist and Kibo Rastafari, as you know. Brian is Pastafarian and Marisol...?" He looked at Vincent for an answer. The blonde man looked at him lazily before seeming to snap out of whatever dream he was in.

"Katholisch, ne?" he asked, sounding like he was talking to himself.

"Well, what about Sheikh?" The two looked at me **-eyed. "The man who's Lex's brother?"

"You mean Badr?" Joey said slowly, as if I was a little kid just learning names. "Yes, Badr is a Muslim, too, although his sons aren't so much. They're a mix."

"A mix of what?"

"Their parents were Pentecostal. When Badr took them in, they adopted some Muslim habits of his." He smirked and chuckled. "Although Kadar still loves his bacon. Shaun brings it to him and Badr treats it like contraband, having a separate fridge and cooking area for the haram food to keep his and Malik's untainted."

"Why is Shaun over there so much anyway?"

The two men looked at each other, then at me. I sighed loudly. Great, more secrets!

"Well, let's start with the one you were almost onto, shall we?" Vincent suggested, becoming more animated almost at once. "Shaun and Badr are an item, you could say." I felt my mouth drop open and stay there until I stammered, "But-but-but-but-but-but he's dated a girl before! Her name was Kate!"

"Sometimes there's a search before you find the right person. Besides, at least he isn't into Catholic shame like some other people." Joey laughed and crossed himself, clasping his hands and looking pleadingly at the ceiling. "Forgive me, Father, for I have laid with my husband?" Vincent chuckled and put on a decent impression of Badr, "Are you doing that again, habibi?" The two men grinned at one another, but I failed to see what was so funny.

"Who would wear the henna?" Joey whispered, holding his sides. The two men grinned at each other. I frowned. Joey looked at me. "I have my bets on Shaun. Badr would insist on a wedding fit for a sheikh. I can't wait to see that smug Brit in a veil for one."

"Stop picking on Shaun," I finally snapped. "It's not like you two are doing any better. What relationships do you have, anyway?"

"I'm divorced from my wife, have two children with her that I still see. We were young when we married and the twins came and after I returned from Afghanistan..." Vincent shrugged. "We couldn't cope with how much I changed, so we moved apart. We had tried to stay together for the girls' sakes, but, well..." He looked at the floor again. Joey's hand squeezed his shoulder once more. Vincent, for a moment, looked like he was going to lean his head into the other man's chest, but simply looked at him. Joey nodded after a minute and they both looked at me again.

"You should see the E-Harmony profile Marisol set up for him."

"Halt's maul!" Joey shook his head at what I supposed was a threat, giggling.

After he finished his gigglefit, Joey looked at me and said, "Brian." I stared at him, blinking several times and actually wriggling a finger in each ear to clear it of any possible residue before saying, "Come again?"

"Brian and I are a couple." He smiled softly. "So, if you see any locked doors around here-"

"-You really need to teach Brian how to perform such a trick as locking a door, Joey. He only knows about your handcuffs-"

"-knock, unless you want to find out what that fabled eye and brain bleach feels like."

My head spun. I leaned it down into my hands, trying to digest all the information I'd been given.

Finally, I lifted my head up and asked, "How many of the Assassins are straight? And does Lex have anybody he's with? He seems to just live alone in that giant house of his. I mean, it's got fifty rooms, and some I can't even go into, or at least I couldn't when I was there. I never saw him with anybody at all." I frowned again, chewing a nail and thinking of the night at the memorial. Someone had dragged my mentor into the shadows, but who?

"Oh, he has a husband." Joey waved his hand almost airily, as if blowing off the question. "But there are straight Assassins, or at least mainly straight Assassins. Kibo and Marisol, Beni and Simone, to name a few, although if a friend needs a little help, shall we say, they're more than happy to oblige, as are the rest of us."

"So you're all...with each other?"

"No." Vincent shook his head. "As far as I know none of us are hippies, or silly enough to walk around without protection."

"Remember, kid," Joey said in a very authoritative voice, "use condoms. Or I'll taze you." Vincent looked over at him. Joey shrugged. "It works. Although now I have to keep arresting the idiots for stealing the condoms from Wal-mart."

"But what do I do to meditate?" I asked as they stood and made to leave the room. Vincent smiled and looked back at me over his shoulder, "Just think on nothing or think on everything. Listen to your breathing or the noise of the traffic outside. Pick something to focus on, or like I said, daydream. It will help to put your thoughts in order. If your head still hurts after that, we'll be in the kitchen having some chai if you'd want to join us for some tea and cards. And Joey, don't forget that you owe me from Brian's last round the week before last." Joey groaned as Vincent shut the door and left me alone with my thoughts.

I settled down where Vincent had been and thought about what had happened since coming to Lex's house to here. Lex had a husband? Why hadn't I seen him? Why didn't he even talk about him to me? Why were most of the Assassins together with other men? There hadn't been any of that during Altair's time from what I saw. Altair had had a wife, after all, and so had Malik. Shaun was with Badr? What about Kate? Didn't he like women at all? What about Desmond? Did he have some secret spouse somewhere? He didn't seem to like discussing relationships either. I leaned my head back against one of the pillows on the wall. This was too much for me to handle...

* * *

><p>I woke up to find the room brightly lit. I looked at the clock, finding it was only a little before noon. How long had I been asleep for? I watched as Joey walked by the door, moving toward it myself and following him with my eyes. He turned into another room and shut the door. I turned down the hall and went to where Vincent said they would be. The man was sipping tea from a set of small, painted, ceramic cups. He smiled at me and asked, "Tea?" I shook my head and sat. He took another sip. "There's coffee in the pot, too. Cold, but you can warm it up." I shook my head again. "Are you still tired?" Finally, I nodded. He smiled around his little cup and placed a hand on my head. "Armes Maedchen. I hope you don't start to mimic your mentor's sleeping habits. Lord knows, he's the worst of us all." I yelped as I was lifted up like a baby and brought to the room where two mattresses-a large king-sized and a full-sized-lay on the floor with five different pillows on the two of them, three on one and two on the other. I was set down on the smaller one and covered up. "Get some rest then, kleines. I'll wake you up for lunch.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Language notes:<br>Grosser = Big one**

**Frieden. Frieden. Du bist sicher. = Peace. Peace. You're safe.**

**Kein Krieg. Kein Krieg jetzt = No war. No war now.**

**Katholisch, ne? = Catholic, right?**

**Halt's maul! = Shut your trap!**

**Armes Maedchen = Poor girl**

**Kleines = little one**


	14. Trust

**A/N**

**There were a couple of technical difficulties (them meaning I screwed up and posted the wrong part as the new chapter), but hopefully, they've been fixed.**

**- Smeggi.**

* * *

><p>Lex moved through the area, steps muted by the snow. He thought about everything and nothing, mostly letting his mind wander. How many times had he come here now? Twice.<p>

The first time it was sheer accident.

This time on purpose.

He looked up at the cabin that stood in front of him. He moved up and knocked on the door, just three quick raps before stepping away. No answer came but the howling of the hounds within. He turned to leave, only to find a body blocking his path, a tall body, hood drawn up over his head. He stepped back instinctively, pressed up against the door. The other moved forward, settling a hand on his shoulder. A small smile quirked up the corners of his mouth.

"_Kanatakon:ha._"

"_Ratohnhake:ton._" The bigger man put a hand on the other's head gently as he was hugged around the middle.

"Where have you been?"

"Away, my friend. I'll have to go again soon, but I'll come back."

"When?"

"I'm not sure, but when I return I'll have someone with me. Oh, and a quick warning: she might be extremely loud."

"A wife?"

"Hahaha! No, a student." Lex stepped away from the man and looked up into his eyes. "You'll take care of yourself while I'm gone, Kemosabe?" The other met his gaze for a brief second before they both looked away.

"You had better do the same while you're away from me. I make no promises to you, though. You know how war is."

"Yeah, same here." He moved to step down into the snow and stopped, a hand squeezing his shoulder. He reached up and returned the squeeze before dropping down into the snow.

X x X

Lex entered the comic shop, hands in his pockets. He nodded to the woman at the front, smiling as he saw her brother playing with his little girl. He moved down the nearest row of shelves, toward a man who stood in the back, looking at the Adam Strange issues. His skin was a shade darker than his own, but lighter than Jameel's, his blackish brown hair cut short, sporting a jean jacket, jeans, and Converse from what he could see.

"Hey." The other turned, looking at him. "How's my favorite Crusader?" The two embraced the next moment, his face pressed to the fabric of his tanktop. A hand ruffled his hair.

"I'm fine. Won my match last week. Where've you been?" The head beneath his hand shook. Not here. Not now. Their hands clasped as he led him out to his truck, scarred knuckles brushed by a calloused thumb.

Climbing inside, he started up the truck and headed for home, allowing the Sparrow to rest his back against his side. The Templar leaned back, driving with one hand, wrapping his arm around the little Assassin.

Once outside his home, he shut off the ignition and looked at the smaller man, leaning down and placing a kiss softly on his cheek. He jumped as his phone went off, alerted him to a text. Swearing at the ringtone, he quickly checked the message:

_What are you doing? Where have you been? Keeping any tabs on the Assassins? I'm very put out with you, Mr. Taitum, as you well no and..._

_And blah, blah, blah, blah, blah,_the Native man thought, skimming through the rest of Warren Vidic's message before he responded with:

_It's my day off, Vidic. I'm resting. Don't text me between the hours of 12 AM and 12 AM on these days. Goodbye._

Sure, the man was technically his boss and would chew his ass out the next chance he got, but he had better things to occupy his time with than the novels' worth of text message written by said boss.

Pocketing his phone, he moved the smaller man onto his lap with a muttered, "C'mon, doc. Let's get you inside." Shutting the door with his hip, he greeted the crazy hobo sitting in the cardboard box in front of his driveway with a nod.

The man grinned a rather toothless grin and said, "Awwww. Sleeping pixie, eh? The angry man still hasn't returned his steed?" The man shook his head as he continued walking, almost laughing when he heard, "Will ya gimme the pot o' gold ya got from him sometime?"

The man sighed as he flopped onto the bed, holding the Sparrow close to his chest. Lex sighed, worming his head under his chin, muttering, "Don't flop, Kase."

The Templar smiled, only to let the expression fade as he felt the Sparrow's fingers curling over his shoulder where his tattoo lay: _Domine non nobis domine,_the Templar motto written in scrawling, backwards cursive. His own fingers slid up the Assassin's back beneath his shirt, touching the spot between his shoulders where the tattoo rested of the sparrow flying through the Assassin insignia.

He closed his eyes, pushing the troubling thoughts away and focusing on a good one to get himself to sleep. He was standing at a shelf, looking over some comics of the Justice League, and could feel eyes on his back. Finally, he picked one up just to be able to turn and confront whoever was staring at him.

The one doing the staring was another young man, who immediately said, "Sorry, thought you were someone else." The two continued to look at each other as they waited in line to be able to check out, the young man folding The Lone Ranger comic he held in his hands and letting it unfold again. When it finally fell from his hands to the floor, he looked at it stupidly, then at him and gave a soft laugh, saying, "Gravity works."

"Yeah, it does," he'd responded, picking up the comic and handing it back to him. The two hand stood there for a time, each having one end in their hands, until Kaila said, "You going to check out, Kase, or are you going to keep flirting all day?"

The man had rushed to the counter and checked out, walking quickly down the block to his truck, only to realize he'd forgotten the comic entirely in his haste to get away. Rushing back, he bumped into the same young man, who had a fresh coating of blood on his nose and was clutching the comic plus two of his own purchases to his chest.

The two had gone into Desmond's bar then and had a drink each, sitting until the wee hours and working their jaws, Kase cleaning the blood from Lex's nose.

X x X

"_Kanatakon:ha._" The Sparrow woke slowly, feeling fingers stroking his cheek. A face that had seen many recent blows looked down at him, evidenced by a cut to the man's eyebrow and a slightly swollen black eye.

"Did you get into a fight without me?" he mumbled.

"You were sleeping." A kiss was pressed to his cheek with swollen lips. "Besides, it was just an early spar. Fights don't start until tonight." The boxer straddled his hips, moving the kisses over to his lips. Lex sighed, running a finger into his hair in answer to the ones already twined in his own shaggy locks.

"Miss me?"

"Yes. You didn't?" Lex pretended to think for a moment, then grinned, pressing his tongue into the Native man's mouth. After a moment they moved apart, Kase taking his hand and leading him into the kitchen. "Got time for breakfast?"

"You're making it?" Lex's eyes widened. "A guy that can cook in New Jersey? Blasphemy!" Kase rolled his eyes and put him into a light headlock, ruffling up his hair and kissing his head, fingers skimming his cheek once more before he tilted his head up and claimed his lips again.

"_Okwaho_, m'not food," Lex finally mumbled after a few minutes of swapped pecks and licks.

"But you taste so good." The Sparrow rolled his eyes.

"So are you in the mood for Turkish sausage for breakfast or something?"

"Depends. You in the mood for a little Native sauce on top?"

"Sparrow tongues are a common food item in the Middle East."

"Oh, really? Stick out your tongue and I might make some."

"Yeah? Can I make Rudy in a Parka then?" He smirked. Kase pushed his head lightly.

"Shuddup, doc."

"Whatever you say, soldier." He was drawn to his chest again.

"Whatever I say?" Lex's growling stomach interrupted any further spit-swapping. "C'mon, let's get you some food. Oh, and if you ever doubt my cooking skills again, I'm not making anything for you." Kase pointed a spatula at him to emphasize his seriousness.

Lex bowed as if in prayer. "I would never doubt your skills, O Master of the George Foreman Grill."

"Do you only come over here for the free meals? I'm offended."

"Oh, if we spirits have offended, but let the Pixie speak and all be mended." Lex pressed a hand to his chest, as if offended himself. "I stay for the cooking; I come for you."

"Oh, hell yeah, you do!" The two sank to the floor, peals of laughter escaping them until their sides ached.

The sound of silverware clinking against plates was the only thing heard for a time before Lex said, "Hey, I got called to war." He winced at the crashing of knife and fork onto plate as Kase bolted up, knocking over his stool.

"What?"

"Just letting you know that if I don't show up for four weeks or more, they're shipping me out." Kase jumped the table to stand in front of him, a move that made Lex's eyes widen.

"WHAT?" He held up his hands instinctively.

"Hey, I told ya, combat medi-" He was hauled up by his shirt and shaken.

"I'll take ya to Canada if it's a draft, kid!" Lex paled. Maybe giving him that particular excuse, while valid, as there was a war going on where he was going and he would most likely be involved in it, was not a good idea. "You don't have to go, man, okay? We can fight this. It's not like they allow gays openly in the military, right? Oh..." He gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut before snarling, "Shit, we can't use that anymore! Look, tell them you have flat feet!"

"Kasey!" The boxer blinked as his shoulders were gripped. "I'll be okay."

"You'll be okay? Every other rock there is a fucking landmine!"

"Kasey! I'll be okay. I took a level in demolition."

"This is not D&D, Lex!"

"I'm serious. I know how bombs work and I know how to avoid 'em. I've nearly been blown up by a few too already. Owww...Ow! Kase! Ouch!" The grip on him didn't let up, the taller man breathing heavily.

"You better come back to me with all your limbs still on, doc." He choked for a moment. "Who else'll fix my nose, huh? The stupid medics here can't pop a bone back in like you can. You're magic, man."

"Hey. Hey, c'm'ere." He pulled him close, nuzzling into his neck. "I'll come back to you. All five limbs intact." Kase snorted, kissing his head. "Hey._Konnoronkhwa_."

"Gibberish."

"I love you."

"_Konnoronkhwa_, huh?" A nod. "Do I get a prize for learning that?" Lips pecked his.

"Shouldn't you be teaching me your own language, Crusader?"

"Oh, shut the hell up and kiss me again."

X x X

The Sparrow moved up to the flat where Sarah was sitting, talking with Vincent. The two looked up at him.

"_Spaetzlein, guten Tag. Wie geht's_?"

"_Danke. Es geht mir gut. Und du, Meister_?" Vincent smiled as the Sparrow knelt and embraced him. "Ich gehe zu Krieg mit Rahtohnhake:ton und Sarah." The man's eyes widened. Lex braced himself for a similar reaction to Kase, a sound shaking. The tall German gripped him tighter than a vice.

"_Bist du verrueckt_, Lex?"

"_Nein. Es tut mir leid, Falke, meine Zunge ist schneller als mein Kopf. Ich will, dass _Sarah_ ihr Rom erlebt. Ihre Feuertaufe. Verstehst du jetzt_?"

"_Du bist verrueckt_, Lex." The two men looked at each other.

"Vertraust du mir, Bruderherz?" Vincent sighed, wondering if Lex saw him or one of his ancestors when he asked the question. "Vinnie?" Well, that answered his question. He kissed the boy's forehead, who only looked to be around his daughters' age to him sometimes.

"_Mit ganzem Herzen, mein kleiner Freund._" He lifted the young man's chin to look him in the eyes. "Komm sicher nach Hause, kleiner Soldat. Du bist jetzt vor allem Vater und Ehemann, vergiss das niemals."

"_Was ist los_?" The two looked up at Brian.

"Ste-" Lex stopped himself and started again, _"_Bri_, Ich gehe mit _Sarah_ zu-_" He gasped as he was scooped up into a nearly back-breaking bearhug.

"_Sags mir nicht, kleiner Bruder, oder ich werde dich davon abhalten_."

Brian kissed his ear, nuzzling into his hair so that Lex heard Sarah mutter, "Gross..." Brian swallowed thickly, looking at Vincent, who nodded. He kissed the little Sparrow's head again and whispered in his ear, "_Slainte mhor agus a h-uile beannachd duibh, mo Sawney._"

"_Beannachd Dia dhuit, an carriad._" The tattoo artist sniffed and held the smaller man all the tighter a moment longer, leaning his back against the wall.

"What are you talking about?" Sarah demanded. "How does it involve me? Hello!"

"Shush!" Vincent snapped. "Let them have their peace for a moment, little one."

Brian lowered him to the floor and knelt, pressing their foreheads together, a hand in his hair, the other on his cheek. Lex returned the gesture, hand in hair, hand on cheek. A little whimper came from the Scot as he choked out, "_Tha gaol agam ort._"

"_Tha gaol agam ort-fhein,_" Lex whispered. They embraced quickly, tightly. Brian rocked from side to side a moment before saying, "Go. Go, go now, go on." He pushed Lex away. "Go, get out of here. Get on wi' ye! Shoo! Be off!"

Lex held up his hands and took Sarah's arm, leading her out and down the road to Becca and Nats'. Sarah took her hand away.

"What did you two say?"

"I gave him my love, and he gave me his."

"How can you do that? It's not like he's your boyfriend, or do you share him with Joey?"

"No. He's one of the friends I hold to my heart."

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see when we get there." He strode into the flat and called to Nats and Becca in the kitchen, "Using Baby again!"

"Okay," was chorused from the other room.

Sarah stopped as she saw the Animus' seat come into view.

"You want me to get in that thing again?"

"No, I want you to take my hand." Sarah looked at him dubiously, then at the orange and white seat. Lex leaned against the seat and lifted a brow, holding out an arm. Sarah moved toward him and reached out. One last thought crossed his mind before he felt the familiar sensation of falling.

_Shit! Jameel better remember to take the kids to that orientation meeting!_Then the feeling of hitting snow, hard as concrete, and his world blackened for a few minutes.

* * *

><p><strong>Kanatakon:ha = Sparrow<strong>

**Okwaho = Wolf**

**Konnoronkhwa = I love you/I show you I care**

**Scots Gaelic**

**Slainte mhor agus a h-uile beannachd duibh, mo Sawney. = Good health and every every good blessing to you, my Sawney.**

***Sawney = Gael version of Lex**

**Beannachd Dia dhuit, an carriad. = Blessings of God be upon you, my friend.**

**Tha gaol agam ort = My love is with you.**

**Tha gaol agam ort-fhein = My love is with you too.**

**Danke. Es geht mir gut. Und du, Meister? Ich gehe zu Krieg mit Rahtohnhake:ton und Sarah. = Thanks. I'm good. And you, Master? I'm going to war with Ratohnhake:ton and Sarah.**

**Bist du verrueckt, Lex? = Are you mad, Lex?**

**Nein. Es tut mir leid, Falke, meine Zunge ist schneller als mein Kopf. Ich will, dass Sarah ihr Rom erlebt. Ihre Feuertaufe. Verstehst du jetzt? = No. I'm sorry, Falcon, my tongue is faster than my head today. I want Sarah to have her Rome. Her baptism of fire. Understand now?**

**Du bist verrueckt, Lex. = You are mad, Lex.**

**Vertraust du mir, Bruderherz? = Do you trust me, dear brother?**

**Mit ganzem Herzen, mein kleiner Freund. Komm sicher nach Hause, kleiner Soldat. Du bist jetzt vor allem Vater und Ehemann, vergiss dass niemals. = With all my heart, my little friend. Come home safe, little soldier boy. You're a father and a husband above all else, never forger that.**

**Was ist los? = What's going on?**

**Ste-Bri, Ich gehe mit Sarah zu- = Ste-Bri, I'm going with Sarah to-**

**Sag mir nicht, kleiner Bruder, oder ich werde dich davon abhalten.= Don't say anything to me, little brother, or I'll stop you.**


	15. Snow

Lex awoke to a white world, finding it off kilter. Sighing, he sat up and pressed a hand to his brow. His pack had broken his fall. Rather, it had stopped his back from breaking on the hard branches above. Reaching into it, he drew out what he needed. Thus equipped, the Sparrow scrambled like a squirrel into the branches above.

Below him, he heard voices and took after them. They were English, thick accented, though where from, whether Cockney or Londoner or Nottinghamshire wasn't for him to say.

The Sparrow followed them through the treetops, his boots unwilling to grip the snowy branches. Digging his hookblade into the trunk, he looked down at the group of Red Coats leading the girl within their knot of bayonets and rifles. Taking a deep breath, he sang out as he had centuries earlier with another Britain in Rome:

"_Khaste nasho, parvaz kon! Ey khaste mooned too ghafas! Parvaz kon ta ke manam ba to ham avaz ham nafas!_" The soldiers fanned out, looking around. Unable to locate the source of the echoing, haunting song. Unable to understand the Farsi he spoke. "_Khaste nasho, khaste nasho, sokooteto faryad kon! Ta mano dari, khodeto az in ghafas azad kon! Faryad kon! Parvaz kon!_"

So saying, he leaped down among them, drawing the kilij from its sheath at his waist and laying into the men. He became a brown blur, the silver arc of steel the only sign of his passing. Bullets flew as another man watched from the tree tops, lured there by the song. He fell in among the men as well and the snow became bloody bathwater around their knees.

The young, dark skinned man looked up at the taller one, his red-stained, keen axe lifted overhead, aiming toward the girl, who was screaming.

"_LA!_" He threw himself between them, his bleeding leg buckling beneath his weight. He went on a knee, throwing his arms above his head. "_Ratohnhake:ton, la!_" The man froze. The other panted, "_Ontiatshi ne:e. Ionterihwaienstha ni ne:e. Akwa:wen._" The girl shifted. The tomahawk was raised again. "_Akwa:wen!_"

The man looked at him. Dark eyes stared into equally dark eyes. The boy wiped his sword on his robes, sheathed it, held up his empty, scarred hands. "_Yonkiaten:ron. Tiaten:ro. Sken:nen, Ratohnhake:ton._" Another gulp of air. "_Sken:nen._"

The axe was lowered, his arm grasped as the man pulled him up and held him in a quick embrace, smiling beneath his cowl.

"_Kanatakon:ha, kwehkwe._"

Sarah stared as the Sparrow gripped at the man's belt, leaning his head against his belly as he laughed weakly, "Ahh, _Ratohnhake:ton, nia:wen! Niawen'ko:wa!_"

"_Io._" The taller man looked down at him, then switched to English. "Your leg." Lex shrugged.

"It can wait 'til we get home. It's just a flesh wound." The Sparrow hopped over and pulled Sarah up from where she was shivering in the snow, staring at the bodies of her countrymen around her. She looked at her mentor. Lex wore a plain, white shirt beneath a set of brown, leather robes with a fur-lined leather cowl and what appeared to be a sheep-wool-lined, leather vest, though his jeans and hiking boots were modern. He also wore the hookblade she'd seen before, as well as a hidden blade. The sword hung strapped to his waist, looking much too big for him. "_Yallah._Up. Let's get going home."

"'It's just a flesh wound,'" Ratohnhake:ton mimicked Lex's words in a nasally voice, carrying the smaller man on his back. "_Yonkyatenron-_"

Lex nodded, resting his head on his shoulder as he mumbled, "I know, I know, you'll make me food for Man-Bear-Pig or whatever the hell else lives in these woods."

"No, I was going to tell you not to lie next time. It's much easier this way."

"I'm not too heavy for you?"

"You, heavy? You hardly weigh more than that bird you've named yourself for. Do you even eat these days? No, wait, don't answer that." He hitched the smaller man a little higher onto his back, letting him get as tight a grip as he could around his neck with his numb hands. "It's your student that I'm finding heavy."

"Are we there yet?" Sarah called for the sixtieth time, slogging her way through the thigh-deep snow after them, Lex's light pack being dragged behind her.

* * *

><p><strong>The Farsi below belongs to the song Black Parade (c) Globus<strong>

**Khaste nasho, parvaz kon! Ey khaste mooned too ghafas! Parvaz kon ta ke manam ba to ham avaz ham nafas! Khaste nasho, khaste nasho, sokooteto faryad kon! Ta mano dari, khodeto az in ghafas azad kon! Faryad kon! Parvaz kon! = Don't get tired, fly! Hey, the tired one in the cage! Fly until I sing and breathe with you! Don't get tired, don't get tired, shout loud your silence! Until you've got me, free yourself from this cage! Shout! Fly!**

**Mohawk**

**Ontiatshi ne:e. Ionterihwaienstha ni ne:e. Akwa:wen. Akwa:wen! = She's my friend. She's a student, too. Mine. Mine!**

**Yonkiaten:ron. Tiaten:ro. Sken:nen, Ratohnhake:ton. Sken:nen. = She' and I are friends. You and I are friends. Peace, Ratohnhake:ton. Peace.**

**Kanatakon:ha, kwehkwe. = Sparrow, hi there.**

**Ratohnhake:ton, nia:wen! Niawen'ko:wa! = Ratohnhake:ton, thank you! Thank you very much!**

**Io = You're welcome.**

**Yonkyatenron- = My friend-**

***Fun fact: Ratohnhake:ton = His Spirit Lives or Life Scratcher**

**If anyone speaks Mohawk and sees any of this is wrong, please, please, please feel free to correct.**

**I know it's missing a quarter-ton of accent marks. My computer doesn't like making them. I'm sorry. I dislike it highly for that.**

* * *

><p><strong>Sarah<strong>

We'd been traveling for ages. I was cold and tired, so I was in a bad mood, and the deep snow was beginning to wear me down. I walked with a scowl behind Connor and Lex.  
>Connor had Lex on his back, as they talked quietly to each other. I tried to listen to what they were saying once or twice, though I soon gave up-I couldn't understand the language they were speaking.<p>

"Are we there yet?" I moaned again. I noticed Connor's hand twitch slightly, as if to grab one of his pistols. I wasn't quite sure how he'd shoot me with Lex on his back, but I knew he'd find a way. I swallowed nervously, and decided to keep my mouth shut.

A chain of thoughts suddenly ran through my head: Lex had found some way of bringing me to Connor. The seventeen seventies. How the hell did he do it? How was it possible? And why did he bring me? Couldn't he just keep me in the twenty-first century and train me there? If he needed help in training me, then why couldn't he just ask Vincent and the others? Was I that difficult to handle?

X x X

Eventually we got somewhere-we got to a shack. When we were all inside, a few hounds greeted Connor and Lex, and sniffed at me, nosing at my legs. I stood still, waiting for them to go away.

Lex was sat down on a chair, and Connor started seeing to his injured leg. I dropped Lex's pack next to the chair.

"I'll live," said Lex, once Connor had bandaged the wound.  
>I took and breath, and finally spoke up,<p>

"Lex," I said, getting his attention. I took a moment to try and control myself, but failing that, I blurted out: "Why-what…okay- what the hell is going on? If you needed help training me, then you could have asked Vincent and the others to help, or if I'm that much of a handful, then you could've just sent me back to Desmond's bar. Desmond would understand. You didn't have to take me here with Connor! "

"Sarah-"

"-And anyway, if I was too much, then you could have at least told me, rather than taking me about three hundred years into the bloody past! If-"

"-Sarah. Just listen."

I closed my mouth, reflecting the almost defeated, drawn look coming from my mentor with my own sharp one.

"I wanted you to have your Rome."

My sharp glare relaxed into a puzzled stare.

"What do you mean 'have my Rome?'" I asked. "And how will I know when I'm having it?"

"Shaun didn't know he was having his when he was having it." Lex looked at me, the same drawn look on his face, which was pale and blue-tinged around his lips and eyes. He'd begun to shudder; Connor draped a thick fur around his shoulders. "You won't know when you're having your Rome while you're having it, but you'll know after. He was the first person I dragged back besides Desmond. The first times, it was Desmond. Shaun was caught between flipping shit and strangling me at first, but then he saw it was Florence and Venice and Rome, the places he'd read about, Florence and Venice and Rome, the places he'd studied to describe to students, the Renaissance, the age he loved in his books. He fell in love with the cities, with the people. He learned their language, read their books, interacted with people others could only dream of seeing in person. He met Leonardo. He met Badr there, too." A smile curled the corners of his lips upward. "You'll learn as only a few are ever able to learn. You'll learn by doing and have one helluva baptism of fire while doing it."

I thought for a moment and frowned. I didn't like the thought of living in this cold, middle-of-nowhere place with some man I hardly knew and some other man who almost put an axe through my skull. I sighed, going to a corner, crouching down, holding my knees to my chest, and thinking on all the things that had happened in the short instance before this:

I'd nearly gotten bayonetted by some Red Coats-my own people, English people, I realized in the back of my mind-then almost had that tomahawk jammed into my skull by my own ancestor, whom Lex seemed to already know and have a sort of relationship with, we'd just taken a long walk in the freezing cold, and now Lex was saying it was all because he wanted me to have some sort of baptism of fire? To have my Rome? If I this idiocy is ever going to be worth it, I'd better feel different by the end, I thought, scowling as I stared darkly into the distance.

Then a skin landed over my head, thinner than Lex's with light brown instead of dark black fur. I pulled it off my head and glared at Connor. He lifted a brow as if to ask "What?" and said, "It's deer skin. Not like you're suffering from bloodloss as well as cold, outsider." I stared at him as he took a seat beside Lex, putting his arm around him as if to help ward off the cold.

I glowered at Lex. Even my own ancestor liked him better than me? I continued to glare as I pulled the thin skin around my shoulders and tried to get some sleep.


	16. Hunting

I woke up to someone nudging me in the chest with their foot, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to get me up.  
>"Thanks for the rude awaking," I grumbled tiredly, stretching my limbs, yawning. Connor grunted in response.<p>

I noticed that there was only a small amount of light flowing into the shack from the windows and cracks. My eyebrows furrowed,  
>"What time is it?" I asked.<br>"Sunrise," replied Connor. I groaned. This early? You've got to be joking, I thought, rubbing my aching back. Urgh- sleeping on the floor was not the best idea, I decided.

I yawned again. It didn't feel like I would wake up fully any time soon. I was half asleep, and on the edge of dozing off...

A chill ran through my body- it was almost colder than last night. I had almost found it impossible to sleep, due to the temperature, and the fact I couldn't get comfortable in my corner. I hugged the thin skin tighter around my shoulders as I started to shiver. All I was wearing underneath the skin was a baggy t-shirt, jeans and trainers-not exactly the ideal clothing for the cold winter of Mohawk Valley. Goosebumps dotted my already-pale skin.

My hands fumbled at my hair. I groaned as I felt a few locks out of the safety of my hairband, and my fringe flipped on the wrong side of my face, so I tore out my hairband, and redid my ponytail. I hated having messy hair. Where's a hairbrush when you needed one?

Lex was already awake. Of course he was- I'd come to the conclusion that everyone would be awake before me. Maybe it's because I like to sleep?  
>"What's happening today?" I asked.<br>"Well first, we're taking you out on a hunt," replied Lex, "with Ylva."  
>"Who?"<br>" Ylva. She'll be coming round soon."  
>Satisfied with my answer, I sat back in my corner, keeping my mouth shut-just in case I said something insulting.<br>"Are you sure you'll be able to hunt?" Connor asked Lex, "Your leg-"  
>"I'll be fine, Ratonhnhaké:ton . Look: I can walk." He began hobbling around the shack, before returning to his chair. Connor didn't look convinced.<br>"I'm as right as rain!" protested Lex, "…Almost."  
>Connor's expression stayed.<p>

X x X

I noticed Connor occasionally glaring at me, as if I would randomly host a mutiny and rip his and Lex's throats out. I frowned,  
>"Stop that," I hissed. His glare now had traces of confusion,<br>"Stop what?"  
>"Stop looking at me as if I would randomly slit your throats!" Before he could reply, I added, "Look. Just because I'm an 'Outsider',"- I made quotation marks with my numb fingers-"and English, doesn't mean I'm on their side in this war."<p>

The death glare returned. If looks could kill, I would have been tortured viciously first. Fed up with my ancestor, I gave him my own foreboding stare, folding my arms.

This, I thought, was stupid. Connor was nice to Lex, but when it came to me, he was, well, a jerk, in a way. I gathered the two were friends, or maybe something more, knowing Lex, but still- I couldn't help feeling pissed.

I sighed- annoyed with myself for being so pissed for such a small reason. I had to try and relax, rather than feel annoyed. My annoyance wasn't good for me, or anyone else around me. I'd already been punched in the nose for it (by a blind man, might I add), so I certainly didn't want a Tomahawk-in-the-skull for it, or a bullet-in-the chest.

But going back to Connor being friends with Lex…I noticed myself asking the same questions: How did Lex manage to physically go back in time? Was it something just Lex could do? Or was anybody capable of it? Was this a simulation, like the normal way of being in the Animus? Lex had mentioned about him dragging Desmond and Shaun into something like this- more than once with Desmond. Why hadn't he told me? Next time I see him, I'll-

My thoughts were interrupted by Connor, who threw me some …clothes?  
>"Put these on," he said, almost as if it was command.<br>"What- do you just randomly keep small clothes somewhere for just such an occasion?" I sneered, before Lex gave me a 'quit while you're ahead' look.

I inspected the small pile of cloths and belts: A sort of button-up tunic thing, belts, and what looked like a jacket. It all looked a little too big, but it would do for the time being. Once I was clothed with more layers, I didn't feel as cold. I hugged myself to keep the warmth. I stared at the ground, letting my fringe fall over my left eye, daydreaming to pass the time.

X x X

"You look pretty good," Lex commented as he looked over at the dressed Sarah, sporting a young man's clothes. "Hey, at least they don't smell like Desmond," he added once the young girl gave him a fierce look. "You won't get mobbed by girls who smell the Axe."

"Axes have smells now, Kanatakon:ha?" The tall man looked up from sharpening the aforementioned weapon.

"It's a body spray, you dork." The time traveler rolled his eyes and grinned, at which the other rolled his own eyes and shook his head. The Wolf reached over and pulled the young man's peaked hood up over his head. In return, his own was pulled down, revealing a head of black hair, slightly wavy, bound in a tail and a dark face with a high forehead and large nose. No scar adorned his lips, unlike his descendant.

The two looked at each other as Lex pushed his head back once more before Lex said, as if by some unseen cue Sarah had missed, "Kemosabe?" The man's large hand ruffled up his hair as he stood and strung his bow, slipping it over his shoulder along with his quiver. Footsteps and the yammering of hounds came a minute later as a hooded figure entered the room.

The woman threw back her hood. Her head was slightly bowed, long black hair tied back in a braid. Alert green eyes looked at Sarah before turning to Lex.

"You brought your little wife back with you, _lillebror_?" she asked, causing Lex's face to turn red from cheek to cheek across his nose. Connor let out a bark of laughter and grabbed two quivers, tossing it to the pair of time travelers.

"No. She's my student, Ylva," Lex mumbled, hugging the woman quickly before taking up two bows and stringing them with practiced ease. He held one out to Sarah, a longbow, and slipped the smaller recurved bow over his shoulder. The four descended into the snow.

X x X

"What did you call Lex back there?" Sarah asked, moving with Ylva through the snow as Lex and Connor took to the trees.

"_Lillebror._ Little brother. Now shh." The woman nocked an arrow to her bow and motioned for Sarah to do the same. Above, the other two archers sighted down the shafts. Sarah put an arrow to the bow and held it up, pulling back the string. Her arm began to tremble as she looked at their quarry, a herd of deer. She frowned. _Oh...Do we have to kill them?_Arrows loosed. She released her own, flinching as the string snapped back and lashed her forearm.

"OW!"

Lex dropped from the tree and ran to her as Connor and Ylva went to gather up the kill. Sarah looked up from where she knelt clutching her forearm. The Sparrow knelt alongside her and looked at the wound.

"Oh, don't look like that. It's just a little graze. You're fine." He smirked and bent his head, pecking the spot. "There. All better now." He laughed and leaned away as Sarah swung a backhanded fist at him, taking out a little bottle from a pocket in his robes and smearing some of the salve it contained onto the spot, wrapping it in a strip of bandage. "Seriously, all better." He lifted her up onto her feet. "Let's go help with the deer."

The two moved down to the bloody patch where Connor and Ylva had set to work. The English girl stopped short, staring at the carcass. The belly had been slit open from forelegs to hind, its innards spilled out into the snow. Lex looked over as he heard the familiar, dull thump of a body hitting solid ground, looking at his student sprawled in the snow in a dead faint.

The elder Assassins stared from her to him. "Don't look at me," he mumbled, adding to Connor, "She's your descendant."

"With whom?" returned the man. "She obviously did not get _that_problem from me."

"Good question." The Sparrow knelt and pulled his student across his shoulders, Connor slinging a pack full of meat across his own back. "I hope you're not expecting an answer from me. I'm not my younger brother. I can't tell you the answer."

"Your younger brother? You called him a Seer, didn't you?" commented Ylva as they trudged back to the cabin.

"Oh, yeah, he's been called the Seer, but we prefer to call him the Doctor."

"He tends to the wounded as well?"

"Sometimes, but that's not the reason for the name. The reason is something you two would probably never get."

"Like many things you say."

"Oh, shut up, _Okwaho_."

"You first, Loud Mouth."

"No, no, be my guest. Please, I insist." The woman sighed as the two continued to bicker good naturedly the rest of the way to the cabin. _Lord, I may be in the company of madmen, but I'll be damned if I don't admit they make me feel at home._

X x X

"The bow and arrow will never cease to be used. Even you carry one," said Ratohnhake:ton, his tone adamant. Sarah's eyes fluttered at the words, lids lifting halfway. He and Lex sat in front of one another on one of the pelts, Ylva to one side, tending to a fire. The smell of cooking filled the air.

"I'm telling you, guns are going to be much more widely used, even though archery is still practiced by a few. Besides, guns are more effective sometimes," Lex prostested, brow furrowed, arms spread.

"Oh, like when?"

"A quick kill."

"Pah! You can't hit a target with a musket unless you're using the bayonet."

"No, but with a rifle you can go long range."

"A bow can be used over distance and is silent."

"There are silencers for guns too! They're these tubular things that-" Connor threw back his head and laughed at this. "Oh, go to hell, Steady as the Beating Drums!"

"Will both of you shut up before I kill you with this pan of mine?" Ylva shouted, hefting the skillet over her head. The two flinched back, hands held up in front of their faces, eyes wide. The woman returned to cooking their dinner.

"...Guns're still gonna be in much greater use."

"**_Kanatakon:ha!_**"

"Yes'm." Lex zipped his lips and waved to Sarah. A whimper sounded and a large wolfhound made his way over to Lex, tail tucked, pressing its large head against his chest. Lex looped his arm around the hound's back and murmured, "Hi, Wuffles. She's not mad at you." The dog dropped down onto its side next to him. "Good puppy."

"Is he yours?" Sarah asked finally, feeling brave enough to speak now that the woman was occupied and not flailing about with an improvised iron mallet. She moved over and patted his side. Wuffles turned onto his back, paws stuck straight in the air, tongue lolling out of his smiling mouth.

"Our communal cuddle buddy and ever faithful kitchen companion," said Lex, indicating all three of them and then Sarah. "His name is Wuffles." The girl looked at him.

"Did you seriously name him after the-"

"Yes, I did. What can I say? I love Jhonen Vasquez's work. How do you know about his comics?"

"Invader Zim. Duh."

"Pfff. _Everybody_knows about Invader Zim now."

"Doesn't make him any less cool."

"Touche. Point, Sarah."

"Is your belly too full of air, Kanatakon:ha, or can you eat something?" Connor interrupted. "I can always feed it to the dogs and your wife."

"Shut up, Ratohnhake:ton. I'd eat your wife's cooking even if I was stuffed to the brim."

"She's not my wife!"

"That's what he said," Sarah joked. The Sparrow looked at her. The girl slapped her palm to her face. "Oh, bugger me, that was horrible, wasn't it?"

"Yes. Yes, it was. And no, I'm not going to bugger you. I don't swing that way," Lex muttered, crawling to where the others sat as they began to eat some of the meat that had been made into a sort of sausage and cooked with a little black coffee to drink.

"So, why do you call him Kemosabe?" asked Sarah. "Isn't the Indian fellow named Tonto?" Lex held up a hand and swallowed the meat in his mouth, shaking his head.

"Tonto is a little derogatory, if you know what it means. Besides, that guy's real name is Wild One." Sarah rolled her eyes. "Kemosabe means trusty scout or trusty friend, so...why not for Ratohnhake:ton? Less of a mouthful, too."

"Oh, hardy harr har," the girl muttered. "I suppose you'll tell me next you actually like Westerns."

"Hey, watch Tombstone and say that again." Lex shook his head and gripped his knees. "Ohhh, sooo much sexual tension in that movie between the characters." The elder Assassins snickered at his expression. They drifted into silence as Sarah looked at him for a time, Lex giving a piece of sausage to Wuffles as the hound stuck its head onto his leg and looked at him with soulful eyes.

"So, you're gay?"

"Huh?" The young man looked up, smiling and nodding. "Yeah, I'm gay." He held up his hand where the silver ring was. "Husband, too."

"Okay. Well," Sarah paused, looking at Ylva and Connor, but the two had moved to the other side of the room, as if to give them privacy. The only eavesdropper was the dog who wanted more scraps, and he wasn't going to talk. Especially if plied with treats. She gave him a little bit of her own meal. The meat tasted strange and the coffee bitter, but she was hungry and it was food, so she'd gotten used to it. "What about this time traveling thing? Have you always been able to do it? Is it just you? What?"

"It's how I was born, really," Lex murmured, keeping his voice low as he turned to face her.

"How you were born?" Sarah frowned. Lex smiled once more and nodded, though his gaze had lost its focus on her. "What do you mean?"

"My mother was a time traveler. She met my father back in Istanbul, Turkey, during the 1400s. She worked for a company called Abstergo Industries. Fiona MacManus. She was supposed to sabotage the Assassins in Istanbul, but instead she became one. When she came back, she..." He swallowed, his fists clenching, bunching up his jeans at his knees. "She was killed trying to get a PoE to the Assassins."

Sarah stared at him in slack-jawed silence, taking in the information. Lex's mother had been a Templar turn-coat? _Then what about...?_

"Who was your father?"

"He was a thief on the streets of Istanbul. Fighting the man by harassment, you could say, until he was taken into the Assassin fold in full and followed his estranged father's footsteps into becoming a Master Assassin and leader of the Ottoman Branch."

"Really?" A nod, the smile all but a wistful grin now. "Who was he, though?" Lex laughed. "What's so funny?"

"You can't guess? I'll give you three guesses-the first two don't count, though."

"C'mon, Lex! Tell me!" Sarah groaned. "Can't you make anything simple?"

"Remember when I had my little run across the city?"

"Yes," she groused.

"Well, who did I tell you I saw?"

"You saw Stephen, your student, and..."

"Woohoo!" The Sparrow threw back his head and thrust his fists into the air. "Dingdingding, she's got it, baby!"

Sarah stared...and stared...and stared some more. Sitting before her, she realized, was the son of the Ottoman Master Yusuf Tazim.

* * *

><p>Language notes:<p>

**Okwaho = Wolf**


	17. Travelling

"Will you disappear again soon?" Ratohnhake:ton asked, looking out across the snow. Lex glanced over at him. "Disappear with the girl?"

"I'm thinking about it."

"You said you wanted us to train her."

"I know, but..."

"Some pressing engagement?" Ylva took a seat on the other side of him and handed him a mug to warm his hands on.

"Something like that." The Sparrow fell silent. Ylva looked over Lex's head at the tall Mohawk man, who shrugged. It was unusual for the man's little brother to be so silent, but if thoughts plagued him there was nothing for it but to let them be sorted out. The woman touched his shoulder before returning to the inside of the cabin. Ratohnhake:ton descended into the snow, giving a whistle to call the dogs to him to keep him company as he made the rounds of the area.

Lex turned and laid down on his back, staring up at the ceiling of the cabin's porch. He closed his eyes and let the memories that plagued him come to the fore of his mind.

_Kasey Taitum. Kasey Taitum. He might as well have scribbled the name on a piece of notebook paper with a giant heart around it. Kasey + Lex, maybe, or an even more embarrassing Lex Taitum?_

_The man had begun to invade his thoughts. That was not good, especially when he was woken from one to find he'd burned his children's breakfast. Even Jameel, who'd more often than not holed away in what they'd come to term the Batcave nowadays, had come to investigate the smoke and gave him an annoyed glare when he'd sheepishly shown him the ruined pancakes._

_He'd gone to the comic shop the next day and found Kase there, as usual. He'd opened his mouth to speak with him, but nothing had come out except a huffed, "Why do you have short hair?" The taller man had gawped at him for a minute before breaking down into giggles._

_"Come watch me box on Tuesday and you'll see."_

_He hadn't watched long. Soon enough, he'd gotten himself in the ring, a pair of gloves on his hands. He'd challenged a bigger man, one as tall as Kase. He'd won, gone victorious to the showers._ And I dropped the soap...

_He had found Kasey in the showers and asked to join him. The man looked at him with a raised brow and shrugged, stepping aside for him to have a go at the water. His eyes lingered for a moment on the tattoo on his back:_ Domine non nobis domine.

_He'd almost caught the stupid bar when it decided to go slipping out of his hand, and automatically dropped to his knees after it when it went toward the drain. He froze as it disappeared, realizing his position. Click, click, click went the pieces falling into place._

Domine non nobis domine. _Not unto us, O Lord. The Templar motto._

_His own back emblazoned with the Assassin symbol, a sparrow flying through it. His back which was now turned to the enemy, taller than him standing and now taller still as he knelt. Vulnerable. No clothing, no weapons but his hands and feet._

Do not compromise the Brotherhood. _A chill raced up his spine as cold metal touched the hollow of his throat, encircled his neck. He looked down as his mother's necklace came to rest against his skin. The necklace he had been given by his father, the one he in turn had given to a little boy on one of his trips back in time, a boy he had visited again as a young man. He had wondered if he would ever see this one piece of both his parents ever again._

_"Can you fix my nose, doc?" He realized the shower was turned off, the dripping coming from his hair and skin now. He turned toward the Templar, the boxer, the enemy, the one he'd become enamored with._

_"Sure, soldier." He moved toward the man, wrapping a towel around his waist as he went. Kneeling again, pressing the bone back into place. Kase winced, prodding the spot gingerly with a cross-eyed expression before turning his gaze on the Sparrow._

_"I missed you." Lex nodded, lowering his eyes and shaking his head._

_"You're huge now." He gasped as he was suddenly placed onto the fighter's lap, grabbing his shoulders for support._

_"Yeah, I am. You're not going to disappear again, are you?" Lex shook his head. "I used to look up at you. And now... You still look the same." Kase frowned slightly. "You find the Fountain of Youth, Lex?"_

_"Nah, I just have good genes. Give or take a few scars."_

_"Hmph." A thumb traced the scar cutting through his eyebrow. He reached up and mimicked the motion; a scar cut through one of the boxer's brows as well. "A few scars. Keep it a few, doc. That's an order." Their lips met, parted._

_"An order, soldier?" Met again, his arms around his neck, up on his knees, Kase's arms hooked around his middle, pressing him to his chest. "Kasey..."_

"Who's Kasey?"

Lex opened his eyes, the light glancing off the snow blinding him for a second. Sarah repeated, "Who's Kasey?" The girl folded her arms across her chest. "I won't leave it alone, y'know."

"I know." Lex sat up, popping his back and neck in the process. He stretched, adding his arms and legs to the snaps and crackles made by his cold-stiffened joints. He looked at his student. Shrugging, he let the words flow. There was no point in lying. The truth would come out soon anyway. "He's a Templar. And my lover."

Standing, he pocketed blew on his hands and pocketed them. He felt her eyes on him, but gazed out into the snowfield, watching his breath rise into a white puff of cloud and disappear. "Don't be all morally outraged about it, please. I've hashed it out with myself about how wrong it should be, but I don't feel like it's wrong." He tilted his head back and blew his breath purposefully into the air. "God, I could use a toke. If you have any questions or qualms about Kase, me, or whatever else, we can talk it over on the ride, but I've got some stuff to tell you, options to give, before we head out.

"We're going to be riding toward and through a few battlegrounds soon. Be prepared for that." He settled a hand on her shoulder, looking at her. Sarah frowned. It was a look Shaun had given her often enough, one he gave Kadar, too. "If we have to fight, stay close to me. I'll protect you as much as I can. But during the journey, we might have to return home. I've got to go home and check on things and I'm sure everyone would love to know you're alive as well, but if you want to stay here while I go back, I'll understand that too. Your choice."

Lex lowered his hand and looked toward the door as it opened. Ylva handed a pack to each of them. Lex nodded and went inside, returning with his kilij slung at his waist, a quiver and the recurved bow across his shoulders. "Grab your stuff, Sparky. We're heading out in a few. I'll grab your mount."x

XxX

**Sarah**

I slung the pack over a shoulder- It wasn't too heavy. It presumably had a few skins or something inside it. I collected my longbow, and quiver, as Lex handed me  
>a dagger. I stared at it in my hand.<p>

"I'm not gonna lie to you, kid," he said, setting me with a careful stare, "It's possible you'll need it."  
>I nodded, attaching it to my belt by its sheath.<br>I thought about what Lex had said about staying or going back to the future, but this whole thing was a part of my training, a part of gaining my 'Baptism of Fire'.  
>I glanced at Connor who was now coming back from running his rounds. No- I didn't particularly like my ancestor too much. Nowhere near as much as I liked Altair. I looked over at Ylva- she was okay, I suppose.<p>

Going back when Lex called me Sparky, my curiosity got the better of me, and without thinking, words trailed out of my mouth,  
>"Why did you call me that?" I asked Lex, as he untied the reins of a mare. "Earlier- Why did you call me that?"<br>"What- Sparky?" he replied, "Isn't that what Dessy calls you?"  
>I nodded.<br>"Well there ya go. If you don't like it, then just say."  
>"Never mind. Sparky's fine."<p>

He handed me the reins that he'd been untying. I pushed away the mare's head gently as she sniffed my hair.

The others started mounting their horses, so I pulled myself up onto mine. As expected, she shifted slightly, adjusting to my weight. She trotted about three paces forwards, but I soon stopped her by lightly tugging the reins,

"Whoa," I murmured.

When the horses were walking at a fair pace, I decided start asking questions.  
>"Was Kasey that guy I saw you with at that call out thing?"<br>Lex sighed,  
>"No. The guy you saw me with was Jameel, my husband.<p>

_Wait…so that means-_

The words 'oh' and 'shit' popped up in my mind. I blinked a few times, and had to bite down hard on my tongue to prevent my jaw from dropping,

"Yeah, I know," said Lex, reading my expression.

So Lex was having an affair with a Templar. Okay then. My lips were pursed together in a firm line, until I said,

"So, Yusuf's your dad? Yusuf Tazim da Istanbul?"

A small smile met his lips, which quickly spread into a wide grin.

"Yeah," he replied. He looked at me, and appeared amused at my expression.  
>"Okay…um…wow," I muttered. I couldn't get over the fact that my Mentor the son of the Ottoman Yusuf Tazim.<p>

Then- oh. Right. Yusuf's death. A few images flashed through my mind- Yusuf dead on the bench, lying in his own blood, a note attached to the weapon that killed him.  
>I mostly remembered how pissed Ezio was when he found the slaughtered Ottoman.<p>

My eyes widened, and darted around nervously, as the distant sound of gunshots grew louder. I didn't like it. Whimpering, I hunched my shoulders and squeezed my eyes shut for a few seconds. I pulled on the reins to make my steed come to a halt.  
>Connor and Ylava, who were slightly ahead, stopped to see what was happening. I heard Connor let out and exhausted sigh, and could imagine him rolling his eyes like Malik did every time Altair did something wrong.<p>

"Relax," said Lex, "Gunshots can be heard from miles away. Those ones are quite far."

Then we were off again. I took my fear out on the reins of the horse, gripping them tightly in my fists, squeezing every time a bang scared me. I expected the horses to be startled, but they seemed fine with the noise.

Oh great, I thought, the corners of my lips turning downwards, even the horses are braver than me.

I shook my head- _no_, I told myself. Now is not the time to be frustrated at the horses. Take it out on something else, at least.  
>The next time I tightened my grip on the reins was with frustration.<p>

Lex had said that he'd taken Desmond back in time more than once. Why the hell didn't Desmond tell me? Was he planning to just one day stroll up to me, and tell me: "_Oh, and forgot to tell you, Lex took me to the past. Twice. Bye!_" then walk off? Because if he was, then he wouldn't be able to walk off in the first place, and for the following six weeks or so.

And Shaun, too? Really? I suppose I shouldn't really get angry at him, I thought. He's the kind of fellow who will answer if you ask. I never asked, therefore he never told.

My fist tightened again, as we passed a group of three bloody and rotting corpses- all of them wearing bright red coats. As for the idea of fighting against my own side…I was okay with that. There were plenty of English Templars in the world, so the less Templars, the merrier. And I've had the urge to strangle Shaun a couple of times in my life, too.

There were gunshots, followed by few pained groans from a distance away. I took deep breath.

My mind travelled back to the decision I had to make. If it's was a part of my training, I thought, then perhaps I'll stay.

I had to remember the reason why I was here, was for my training. I couldn't just say 'oh, we're going to fight along some Assassins in the Battle of Hastings as a vital part of my training? No thanks. I don't get along with King Hardrada.'

"Hey, Lex?" I piped up, catching his attention. I opened my mouth to speak, but then replaced the original words with, "Uh...never mind."

I started digging into the back of my mind for ideas. Finding nothing but my arrogance, I had the urge to whack my head on a table top.

I'll go then, I thought. Though it's highly likely that Lex would take me back to resume the training with Connor and Ylava.

After a while of riding, we were travelling along the edges of what looked like a field where a battle had taken place. There was a thin layer of snow, covering grass, mud, and some bodies that were scattered here and there, though it was hard to tell which side had more dead.

This battle looked like it had been fought pretty recently.

Then gunshots that were heard earlier were louder. Considerably louder. The field was like a pathway to the location of the noise; in a couple of miles, we'd be with the soldiers loading their muskets.

We weren't going to move through a live battlefield, were we?

Then a more worrying thought hit me- We weren't going to fight, were we? I know Lex said it was possible that we would...

"We're…we're not going to fight, are we?" I asked Lex, nervously, despite what he had said before we'd set off.

"Can't say for sure that we're not. That's what the daggers for," he replied, giving me the same, Shaun-like stare he did earlier, "It also depends on whether I go back or not. That reminds me- have you thought about the offer, yet?"  
>I frowned,<br>"I want to go home. I don't really like my ancestor much, see, and if you haven't noticed already, I don't get along with him as well as you do." Judging by the disapproving look on my Mentor's face, and the fact that what I said was rude, I swallowed nervously, and muttered, "Sorry. Yeah, so when you- if you go back, I'll come with you, if that's okay."  
>"It's fine. But, y'know it's likely we'll be coming back afterwards?"<br>I sighed,  
>"I know. And I realize that."<p>

* * *

><p><strong>AN Apologies for the wait. **

**- Smeggi.**


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